Operation: DOLL
by Tikalightning
Summary: What happens when one of the Delightful Children shows signs of developing a real personality?
1. Little Things

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You actually think I own the rights to the Kids Next Door? Wish I did, but sorry, no. If I did, why would I be writing a fanfic instead of actual episodes?

Anyway, this is the first in a sort of series of stories I have planned. I guess you could call this an alternate universe or something, as it spins off the regular series and goes in a direction I don't think they'll take. This can be set after any of the episodes you wish: that's a way of fudging so if I want to include details revealed in newer episodes, I can. What? It's not going to hurt anything…

Loading Kids Next Door Mission_

Operation: D.O.L.L._

Delightful or Lost Lass?

At first, the deviations were few and far between. Little, miniscule details that most wouldn't notice, or think noteworthy if they did. Only in retrospect would such minor things seem important, possible warning signs of what was to come.

Looking back, Numbah One would wonder how he, out of all of the Kids Next Door, could have missed such changes. As the leader, he prided himself on keeping tabs on all of their enemies, knowing their tactics and strategies and typical habits. Such details could make all the difference in battle, providing the edge they needed, the difference between a successful mission and escaping by the skin of their teeth.

Plus, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane were their foremost rivals and eternal enemies? How could he have not picked up on the fact that one of their creepy camaraderie was changing, even so slightly?

Maybe then he would have been better prepared when the situation slowly developing in the heart of their worst enemy suddenly directly affected his own team…

#####

The change started so slowly, she wasn't even aware exactly when it began.

Little differences, seemingly inconsequential at first.

Watching just a little while longer as one of the Kids Next Door battled it out with their minion of the day.

Looking away just a little too soon when one of the enemy agents was getting beaten into the ground.

Her reactions slowly shifted until they were no longer exactly in tune with her comrades – changes so minute and yet glaringly different compared to the other Delightful Children.

It wasn't until she caught herself smiling that she became alarmed.

The Kids Next Door were being beaten back by one of their lackeys, the always hot-tempered Sir Toasty. One of them, Kuki Sanban, seemed utterly oblivious to their imminent doom, innocently asked her teammates if one of them could crank up the air conditioning, as it was getting rather warm. Both Nigel and Wallabee launched into an instant tirade, their indignant voices blending together as well as their words.

After they were finished, the girl blinked at them and commented, "What?"

It took a moment for her to realize that the faintest of smiles had curled her lips as she watched. While her face had turned back to its typical blank state the instant it dawned on her, secretly, a cold terror clamped frigid fingers around her heart then and there.

She had been smiling. And somehow she knew it was hardly at the prospect of the Kids Next Door facing their demise, although she hurriedly rationalized it that way all the same.

When their five rivals then evaded Sir Toasty's assaults and escaped, she was even more confused and concerned to note she didn't feel quite so frustrated with their evasion. She frowned and grumbled harmony with her fellow Delightful Children, yet somehow the edge had been taken off her hatred.

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(…Hatred?)

She wasn't even certain that was the proper name for her feelings toward the Kids Next Door anymore. Something was changing deep inside, but what she couldn't quite put into words. Nor did she want to, really.

It was a definite problem. Not only was she unable to pinpoint the cause of her new dilemma, she certainly couldn't broach the issue with any of her constant companions. Father had made it quite clear that being different was a very, very bad thing. Standing out in the crowd made you a troublemaker; differences meant you were unacceptable.

How would Father react if she approached him with this problem? For that matter, how would any of her comrades?

She couldn't risk being labeled 'not normal'; she dared not being singled out for being different. Father would be absolutely furious.

So she remained silent, the perfect little girl: seen but not heard. If she were fortunate enough, whatever was wrong with her would correct itself before anybody else noticed.

It failed to do so. Instead, things only worsened.

Her emotions, normally only coming into the scene extremely blunted when the rest of her group felt the same way, started to surface at the oddest and most inappropriate times. Seeing the Kids Next Door in action stirred unusual sensations that she couldn't understand or acknowledge as anything other than a danger.

She couldn't ask the other Delightful Children to aid her in coming to understand her worsening condition. Instead it remained her secret shame, gradually distancing her from the group she had been a part of for as long as she could remember. The very concept horrified the girl – yet she continued to keep mum. After all, acknowledging her difference would only strengthen the walls quietly building between them.

Still, she knew things could hardly stay as they were. If only there were some way to solve her problem without ostracizing herself in the process.

She had no idea the answer would be provided for her, or the form it would take.

Father had approached his Delightful Children with another brilliant plan to eliminate the Kids Next Door. It was wonderful in its simplicity: lure in their rivals with rumors of a nonexistent plot to turn a nearby playground into a brainwashing station that would make the local neighborhood kids into fellow Delightful Children. Once they arrived, the only ones needing rescue would be the Kids Next Door themselves.

As could be expected, the plan worked perfectly. Once the Kids Next Door showed up, their transportation was scuttled by the iron 'monkey bars' that shot up in a tight grid around the vicinity. Now it was only a matter of time before their mechanical mockeries of typical playground equipment finished off the five brats…

"Kids Next Door! Battle sta-ugh!" Nigel's trademark command was abruptly cut off as a swing caught him smack in the ribcage.

"Numbah One!" the other four chorused.

The shades-wearing boy clung desperately to the seat for dear life as it carried him up, far over the heads of his worried teammates. Suddenly, part of the metal plank opened, revealing a pair of shackles that instantly clamped around his wrists.

"What the…?" he exclaimed, trying in vain to pull his arms away as the swing continued its arc upwards.

Watching from a safe distance away, the Delightful Children chortled in monotone chorus. The swing's momentum would take it over the bar from which it hung repeatedly, taking the trapped boy with it, until boy and bar finally met at full speed. Even if the impact failed to break anything, Nigel would certainly be rattled, not to mention trapped and unable to aid his comrades as the other playground equipment dealt with them.

Glassy blue eyes watched eagerly as the swing crested the bar for the first time, taking the screaming Nigel up, over, and down toward his friends again. His cries for help were useless, for all of his teammates were busy trying to save themselves.

Two of the Kids Next Door had teamed up to take on the jungle gym, with little real success. Already the thick bars had managed to cage Hoagie, pinning the pilot to the ground. The more agile Abigail was doing an admirable job of dodging so far, but was focusing most of her shots on the cage surrounding her friend

Meanwhile, the remaining pair was dealing with the Delightful Children's own twisted version of a go-round. The ride had detached from the ground and transformed into a deadly flying disc, whizzing toward its targets in a blaze of brightly colored metal.

To the frustration of the creepy camaraderie, however, this particular weapon was turning out to have a fatal flaw. While the spinning circle's edge was razor-sharp, its sides were wide, flat and distinctly lacking in harmful objects. It also lacked any sort of restraints that could render its victims incapable of escaping their fate.

With a collective grunt of disgust, the Delightful Children ignored the not-so-deadly-discus and focused instead in watching their other creations push their rivals closer to the edge. All of them, that was, save one.

She watched, entranced, as Wallabee and Kuki evaded the spinning go-round easily. Suddenly, Kuki vaulted into the air and landed on top of the flying circle effortlessly. Her long raven hair whipping round her jubilant face, she threw her arms into the air and… laughed?

"Wheeeee! Numbah Four, lookit me!" she called down cheerfully.

The staring Delightful Child could only blink. Didn't she comprehend how much danger she was in? At any moment the go-round could flip and dump her off, practically guaranteeing a harsh landing for the bubbly girl.

Below the spinning disc and its ecstatic passenger, Wallabee gritted his teeth and glared upward. Obviously he understood how perilous his teammate's position was even if she was ignorant.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Down here, you overgrown frisbee!"

The deadly discus banked sharply in midair, nearly throwing Kuki off, and spun toward the blonde boy at full speed. The watching Delightful Child inhaled sharply, biting back a gasp: Wallabee was holding his ground instead of dodging out of the way. If he didn't move, the go-round's sharp metal edge would shear directly through his neck.

(Is he insane? He'll be killed!)

Her sky blue eyes widened a fraction more as her own thoughts suddenly dawned on her.

(But… Why do I…)

At that moment, her breath caught in her dry throat as the discus reached the still stoically standing Wallabee. The boy's bangs were blown upward by the force of the go-round's rapid approach, revealing the serious, hardened emerald eyes normally hidden underneath.

In that instant he ducked, and as the deadly discus whizzed overhead turned and delivered a powerful kick to the flat, smooth metal underside. The go-round was sent sharply off-course, and as it arced away Kuki hopped off and landed gracefully a few short feet away from her teammate.

The watcher gaped, completely forgetting to mask her shock. She could only stare at the blonde-haired fighter and wonder how in the world he had managed to pull that move off. Standing his ground like that…

Meanwhile, Numbah Five bit back a sharp cry as cold, unyielding metal snared her left ankle and slammed her down into the grass. The jarring impact caused her to lose her grip on her soda-pop laser gun, and the weapon flew through the air.

"Numbah Five!" Numbah Two shouted from inside the iron beast. Gripping the bars that pinned him down, he cried, "Are you okay?"

"Sure, Numbah Five's just peachy," she muttered sarcastically, pushing herself up and spitting out grass.

She stood, only to be yanked off her feet again as the iron bar clamped round her leg began to draw her closer to the possessed jungle gym. Digging her feet into the dirt, Five glanced around and sighed as she saw her weapon lying a good distance away. Fat lot of good it did her there. She'd have to think of some other way to convince this metal monstrosity to let go…

A whirring flash of color whizzed inches past her ear, and suddenly the jungle gym was a mass of twisted iron bars with a huge disc lodged crossways inside. Numbah Five blinked.

"…Now that's what Numbah Five calls timing," she observed mildly.

Her dark eyes widened underneath the shadows of her trademark crimson cap as she abruptly remembered that her teammate had been trapped by the jungle gym. Scooping up her gun, Five turned and raced toward the tangled mass of metal, mentally bracing herself for the worst.

Just as she reached the wreckage, part of the twisted metal lurched. A hand popped into view and waved in the girl's general direction.

"Hey guys, I'm okay!"

Five sighed in relief, then turned away. Numbah Two didn't need her assistance nearly as much as her other friends might possibly need it. A quick sweep of the area revealed that Three and Four were currently out of immediate danger: the former was dancing circles around a possessed tetherball pole and getting the chain tangled around itself, while the latter was squaring off with what appeared to be a mockery of a slide.

The same could not be said of their illustrious leader, however, and so Numbah Five dashed in the direction of the swingset.

The Delightful Children were, for the most part, rather annoyed that their perfect plan was turning out to have some fatal flaws. Still, these minor setbacks weren't keeping them from enjoying what little of their plot was playing out the way they intended.

"We do hope that you enjoyed your little ride, Nigel," they chorused, voices tinged with a malicious glee. "After all, it was your last…"

The leader of the Kids Next Door responded to their taunting by thrashing around vainly. As they had predicted, his swing's wild arcs had ended with him tangled up in the chains, back pressed tightly against the cool metal bar. His wrists were still trapped in the seat's shackles; his trademark sunglasses had fallen off during his futile struggles and now rested in the dirt below. The swingset reared up triumphantly, like it was proudly displaying its victim for all present to see.

"Numbah One!" shouted Five, skidding to a halt a short distance away and taking aim with her soda pop laser. "Hang on!"

"Does it look like I'm capable of doing anything else?!"

"Too late, Abigail," the Delightful Children drawled.

Numbah Five ignored their taunt and steadied her gun sights. Numbah One's squirming was becoming less and less forceful as the chains held firm, slowly choking the life out of him. There wasn't any time to concentrate on anything else, not even rebuking those pain-in-the-butt Delightful Children.

"Finish him off…"

"Watch out!"

Numbah Five jerked involuntarily at the sudden shriek. That definitely hadn't been Numbah Three, and was too feminine to belong to any of her male friends. But there wasn't any chance to figure out who it could have been, as the reason for the warning suddenly became clear.

A stretch of long, gleaming metal swung around sharply and slammed into the left side of the swingset's legs, sending it – and the still snared Numbah One – crashing to the dirt. The leader of the Kids Next Door grunted as he struck the ground, and Numbah Five hurried to free him from his chains, while a part of her mind noted what exactly the slab of metal was.

A short distance away, Numbah Four grinned wickedly even as he continued to swing the bar he'd yanked off of the now deconstructed slide like a baseball bat. He released it just at the height of its arc, and it flew straight toward where the startled Delightful Children were standing.

It crashed into the platform, splintering it, and the petite girl screamed again as she and her comrades were apart by the force of the blow. She had been the only one not absorbed in watching Nigel suffer… the only one who had looked away and seen Numbah Four knock the slide down… the only one who had seen the threat he had become.

She was also the only one falling to the left side.

As the debris from the shattered platform rained down, she reached out to her comrades with one hand, a wordless shriek issuing from her gaping mouth, wide, frightened blue eyes pleading for assistance.

An agonizing pain blossomed from the base of her skull, and inky fingers of darkness swiftly enveloped her blurring vision. The last thing she glimpsed was her four constant companions getting further and further away from her… Then she was completely cut off by blackness.

#####

"Are you alright, Numbah One?"

"As fine I can be," he responded tersely, rubbing his sore wrists.

Numbah Five shrugged off his curt retort and slipped her lockpick back into the inside of her cap. One bent and retrieved his shades, rubbed the dirty lenses with the edge of his red sleeve, and slipped them back into their rightful place.

"Kids Next Door, status report," he commanded briskly.

"Ah, it looks like those prissy Delightful Dorks got away!" Numbah Four complained, glaring at the wreckage of the platform and the telltale hole to its immediate right.

"But at least we're okay, right?" chimed Two amicably as he hurried up to his teammates.

Numbah One glanced at the smiling pilot, then quickly surveyed the area. Numbah Three was still dancing circles around the now-defunct tetherball pole: she didn't appear to have even a scratch from the battle. Numbah Four was in similar condition: his blonde bangs were ruffled and wild, but no dirtier than the rest of the short fighter. Numbah Five's left ankle appeared a bit red and swollen where it had been snared, but the injury looked far from serious.

Best of all, with the Delightful Children having been defeated once more and their creepy creations turned into scrap metal, the monkey bars that had caged the entire area had retracted. They were free to go… even if their aerial transportation had been blown up on the way in.

"Agreed," he nodded. "Let's fall back to the Treehouse for the time being and plot our next move."

The others nodded and started back toward their base, some moving slower than others. Numbah Five tested her left foot and hid a wince: now that the adrenaline rush that the conflict had provided had all but drained away, her ankle was making its soreness well known. She knelt and gently massaged it with both hands, feeling the injury carefully.

"Are you okay, Numbah Five?"

She looked up, saw Numbah Two crouching next to her with a concerned expression, and smiled.

"Numbah Five is just fine," she insisted, standing back up. "Nothing a little R and R won't heal…"

"Still, let me help you with that."

Five shook her head, but obligingly leaned into the pilot's shoulder for a bit of support as she stood back up. They headed off toward the Treehouse, both glad that it wasn't that far away.

"Hurry up, Numbah Three," Two called back over his shoulder at the remaining member of their team.

Numbah Three either didn't hear his call, or ignored it for the time being, instead scampering around the wreckage of the 'playground' turned trap. Now that the danger had ended, why would it hurt to hang around a bit longer? The smashed remains of the jungle gym were now a perfectly good, if oddly shaped, monkey bars, and there was plenty of weird stuff lying around…

She skipped around the splintered remains of the watchtower, humming brightly to herself… then stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide.

…Okay, so obviously not ALL of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane had made a clean escape this time.

"Um, guys?" Three asked, turning and looking for her friends. "Guys? Hello?"

Naturally, she got no reply, her teammates having already departed without her. Numbah Three looked back at the motionless figure before her, completely clueless about what her next move should be. She didn't remember Numbah One ever going over a rule about what they should do in this sort of situation!

…Then again, she didn't remember a whole lot of what Numbah One said they should do in most situations.

Numbah Three stood staring curiously down at the unconscious girl curiously for a few moments. She had simply never been confronted with the concept of one of her enemies being injured and helpless right in front of her.

Right now, however, the girl lying in front of her didn't look like any sort of threat. In fact, the petite girl looked more like an abandoned, broken dolly than anything, with her glass blue eyes closed, her dress ripped in places, and even the pale pink bow in her long hair partially undone.

A smile appeared on the dark-haired girl's face. She didn't know what you did with abandoned enemies, but she knew exactly what you did with abandoned dollies: take them home, fix them up, and love them the same way you did your own dollies. And it was the same difference, right? Right!

Besides, she could always ask the others if they knew what to do later…


	2. Look What I Brought Home!

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Nope, still don't own them. If that ever changes, believe me, you'll be the first to know.

"Where is Numbah Three?!"

Numbah One paced back and forth in the meeting room, arms crossed behind him, brow furrowed in frustration. The other three operatives sat in the half-circle couch in the center of the room watching him.

Numbah Five had her left leg propped up on a seat cushion, the ankle swathed in white bandages. This was more a simple precaution than anything else; her leg wasn't feeling as sore as it had been, but nobody wanted to risk aggravating the injury and possibly making it worse. The last thing they needed was having one of their agents turn her sore ankle into a twisted or broken one and knock herself off active duty for the next few weeks.

Thankfully, that seemed to be the worst extent of their injuries. All of them had been battered a bit during their struggles: Numbah One was still a little sore where the chains had dug into his skin, Numbah Two sported a few purplish bruises where iron bars had landed on him, and Numbah Four's hands were scraped up where he's pulled off that metal slab he'd used as a weapon. Still, they'd managed to come out a lot better than their foes had intended.

The only one who hadn't gotten whatever wounds she might have sustained during the combat checked was Numbah Three. True, she hadn't looked like she had been hurt, dancing around the battlefield the way she had afterward, but there were such things as precautions…

The fact that she hadn't shown up yet was seriously annoying Numbah One. Although he didn't want to admit it, he was also a bit worried… Could something have happened to her before she could get back on her own?

It was clear the same possibility was weighing on everyone's minds, although some were having an easier time hiding their concerns than others were.

"That's it!" Four declared suddenly, slamming his fists down on the table in front of him. Jumping to his feet, he turned to face his friends and demanded, "Why are we just sittin' around 'ere when we should be looking for Numbah Three?!"

"Calm down, Numbah Four," soothed Five. "You know how Numbah Three is. Probably just got sidetracked by some flowers, or a butterfly, or something… Nothing to worry about…"

"Still, I gave a direct order to return to the Treehouse ASAP," One groused. He stopped pacing, folded his arms impatiently, and added, "She knows better than to keep us all waiting like this…"

"Numbah Five thinks you should know better than that by now," the capped girl commented under her breath.

"Relax, Numbah One," Two added. "She'll be back soon, I'm sure of it."

"What makes you so sure?!" Four demanded, getting right up in the pilot's face. "She could be hurt! She could be in danger! She could be…"

"Right there," Two finished for his fuming teammate, pointing to the doorway just as it swung open.

Four turned around to see the Japanese girl step inside. Oddly enough, her back was turned to her teammates as she edged through the doorway backwards, crouched down, head bent. It was clear she was carrying something, but her turned back and long raven hair hid whatever it was from view.

"Where have you been?" Numbah One asked sternly. His eyebrow raised as he added, "And what exactly have you got there?"

"Come look what I found!" Three's reply was filled with pride, excitement… and was absolutely no help whatsoever.

One rolled his eyes behind his dark shades and rested his forehead in the palm of one hand. He really didn't need to deal with her games right now… He was already sporting a headache from being spun around that stupid swingset and getting bound against the top bar.

Numbah Four got up and stomped over to Three. His temper was somewhat offset by his curiosity. It didn't look like she'd been picking flowers this time… He couldn't think of many 'stupid girl things' she could have engaged in that would entail dragging something home.

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(It'd better not be any of those stupid Rainbow Monkeys, that's for sure. If I have to see one more Rainbow Monkey, I'll scream!)

"Okay, okay, so what is… it…"

The blond fighter's demand died in his throat as he came up beside Numbah Three and finally saw exactly what she had brought in. The raven-haired girl turned her cheerful face to him and smiled brightly, looking exceedingly proud of herself. Four's jaw dropped.

"Well?!" Numbah One shouted, peering over his podium at the pair. "What is it?!"

"Yeah, what's going on?" Two chimed.

Numbah Five peeked over the top of her seat curiously. All she could see from her awkward angle was a beaming Three and completely shocked still Four looking down at something teasingly just out of her vision. Beside her, Numbah Two, who wasn't inconvenienced by his injuries, got to his feet and leaned over the back of his chair. He adjusted the goggles over his eyes once, blinking beneath the amber lenses.

"Say, that kinda looks like…"

He leaned further forward, abruptly gasped dramatically, then promptly fell right over the edge and landed flat on his face. One and Five both winced at the harsh thud.

"Okay, that's it!" The leader threw up his hands and left his platform, stomping over to investigate what had floored the other male operatives. "What on earth has gotten into you GAH?!"

He recoiled, his shades slipping off his nose and hanging low as he stared at the unconscious girl lying at Three and Four's feet. Instantly recognizing the comatose Delightful Child despite her sorry state, he looked incredulously at her, then at the beaming Three.

"Neat, huh?" she asked, tilting her head to one side cutely.

"Wh…what a-are you… T-this… s-she…"

"You brought one of those Delightful Dorks here?!" yelled Four at the top of his lungs, finally spitting out what One was still trying to work up to.

"You did what now?" Five cried, the rest of her head popping into view from her seat.

"I knew I recognized her from somewhere!" Two asserted from the floor.

"What?" The genuinely perplexed Three cocked her head to the other side. "She was hurt, so I brought her here so we could fix her!"

"F-fix her? Fix her?!" screeched One.

"Uh-huh!" Three nodded enthusiastically.

"…Um, hello? She's one of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane! Our worst enemies!!! You remember that, right?!"

Numbah One waved his arms frantically to further emphasize his point. Beside him, Four nodded his total agreement.

"Yeah! She and those wacko siblings of hers just tried to whack us back at that playground!"

Numbah Three just looked blankly at her friends and shrugged lightly.

"So?"

Four slapped his forehead. One buried his face in his palms.

"This is the last thing I need to deal with right now…" he muttered into his hands.

"Um, Numbah One? She does have a point, you know."

"Et tu, Numbah Two?" One growled under his breath, parting his fingers just enough to glare at the pilot.

"Have you lost it?" shouted Four, also rounding on the mechanic.

Numbah Two shrank back and smiled nervously at the other guys. He chuckled weakly, then waved one hand at the petite girl still sprawled at their feet.

"Aw, come on, does she look like she can do any damage right now? She's really hurt!"

"That's right!" Three nodded.

"Really hurt," he repeated, confidence bolstered a bit by her backup. "I mean, what harm could she do if…"

"Plenty," One cut the pilot off curtly. "We can't underestimate our enemies, even if they're weakened. There's always a chance she could use any kindness we show her against us later."

"But she's hurt bad!" Numbah Three said.

"Good!" spat Four. "Serves that prissy dork right, I say!"

"But we can't just leave somebody like this!" Two insisted.

"She can find help somewhere else for all I care."

"But Numbah Four…!"

"I don't need this," One repeated lowly, face hidden in his hands again. "I don't want to deal with this, I don't…"

"Ahem."

Numbah Five cleared her throat, snapping her fingers once to get the attention of her teammates. It worked, and she adjusted her cap briefly before looking solemnly at the others.

"If Numbah Five could make a few suggestions…"

#####

Reemergence into the waking world came in stages for the petite girl. First were the voices, familiar voices which she dimly recognized as coming from somewhere close by. They filtered in and out of her barely receptive hearing, much as she teetered on the edge between silent slumber and active attentiveness.

"All I'm saying…… can't… too careful…"

"…is a………child…"

"Delightful Child, you………"

"Still, she……"

"……throw her………house window and……done with it!"

Slowly at first, her senses started to return one by one. She became aware of her aching body next, every injury sending waves of dull pain rippling through her. A tiny part of her, in the very back of her mind, curiously noted that she didn't hurt as badly as she expected. That first jolt that had stolen her senses in the first place had seemed a prelude to more horrible pains than this…

She absently attempted to raise one of her hands to lay it against her aching head, only to find the limb refused to obey. More feeling rushed into her body as her groggy mind noted with growing alarm that she couldn't seem to move her arms at all… or her legs, for that matter.

Further tests, quickly becoming more frantic as more of her senses flooded back in a dizzying rush, indicated that her hands were bound behind her back, and her legs tied together around the ankles. She was lying on her side against something surprisingly comfortable, and for a moment she contemplated slipping back into peaceful slumber and hoping that this was all some sort of terribly realistic nightmare.

Instead, however, she forced open her eyes.

Just as she feared, the faces before her were not those of her fellow Delightful Children. All five members of the Kids Next Door were right in her line in vision, and all five were looking straight back at her.

"Well, well, well. Look who's finally awake, guys!" Wallabee drawled, folding his arms in front of him.

"Hi!" Kuki waved cheerily at her.

The faintest trace of a weak, nervous smile ghosted over the Delightful Child's pale face for a few brief seconds before fading back into the typical blank expression that she usually wore. Despite this, her wide blue eyes betrayed the frigid fingers of fear clenching her heart.

She was alone. Alone and in the hands of the same group she and her comrades had clashed against so often.

Fighting a losing battle against the shivering sensation tingling up and down her spine, she shrank away from her captors, as far away as the pliant cushions of the couch she was lying in would allow. Several locks of her long sandy blonde hair fell over her face, a welcome veil to further obscure her true terror at finding herself in such a situation.

"Ahem!"

Nigel cleared his throat and stood up, folding his arms behind his back.

"As you are no doubt aware, I am Numbah One, leader of the Kids Next Door."

"…You are… Nigel."

It was the only possible retort she could think of, and she was painfully aware of how lacking it was. The fact that it was only one single, solitary, woefully weak whisper instead of a creepy monotone chorus robbed it of any impact it might have had. She winced at the sheer loneliness of hearing her own voice unsupported.

Numbah One shook his head and smirked. Numbah Two smiled uncertainly. Numbah Three had never stopped smiling since seeing the Delightful Child wake up. Numbah Four sneered.

Numbah Five raised one of her eyebrows thoughtfully, though this was hidden by the brim of her cap.

"I am Numbah One, leader of the Kids Next Door," repeated the shades-wearing boy firmly. "You would do well to remember this from now on. I would prefer you to refrain from addressing us by our 'real' names for the length of your stay here."

The Delightful Child cringed at his commanding tone. Part of her wanted to demand what he meant by that; part of her wished never to discover it. Besides, her voice alone would hardly be forceful enough to elicit a desirable answer.

"Numbah Two, if you would," One said smoothly, turning to the pilot.

"Aye-aye, sir."

Two saluted his commander, then walked over to where she was sitting. The petite girl shrank back involuntarily at his approach, most of her frightened expression hidden by her long hair. However, his hands were surprisingly gentle as he reached behind and freed her hands from her bonds. Looking over, she saw that apparently her wrists had been bound in oversized ponytail holders.

Bringing her hands in front of her face, she gasped. A single metal band remained clamped around her right wrist: it looked uncannily like a watch.

"What you're admiring right now is a very special device," Numbah One informed her proudly. "We call it a W.A.T.C.H.: Whereabouts All Treehouse Captives Here. Its primary function is quite simple… Anyone who wears that is rendered completely unable to leave our base. We can also pinpoint where anyone with one is exactly at any given moment."

The Delightful Child looked up at him through a curtain of her own hair, blue eyes wide with shock.

"Really?" piped Numbah Three curiously.

"Yes, really," Numbah One nodded. His prideful smile widened as he continued, "I suggest you don't try to leave with that on your wrist, or you'll be in for a big surprise. Also, don't bother trying to remove it: I'm the only one that knows the code, let alone where the panel that it must be inputted is located."

"Face it, girl, you're stuck here from now on," Numbah Four said, crossing his arms and nodding.

The petite girl did not even bother to respond. Instead, she stared at the simple band on her wrist that symbolized her defeat and disgrace. She kept her head bowed low, letting her hair hide her face. She didn't want any of her captors to see the tears she felt filling her eyes.

"You will also be accompanied by at least one of our operatives at all times," continued Numbah One. "Now then, Numbahs Three and Five will escort you to another room to get changed."

She looked up sharply at that, blinking back tears. Numbah One glared back down at her, arms folded in front of him.

"In case you haven't realized, you're a complete mess," he informed her bluntly. "Plus, we're not about to let you walk around our base wearing the uniform of the enemy."

"Dunno why not," muttered Four just loud enough for her to overhear. "A bunch of dirty rags suit you Delightful Dorks just fine…"

She bowed her head again, and barely glanced up when a hand gently gripped her shoulder. She didn't acknowledge the slight smile Numbah Five gave her as she unbound her legs and helped the petite girl stand.

"Yay, dress-up!" Numbah Three cheered, dancing around nearby. "Dress-up, dress-up! C'mon, Numbah Five, hurry! C'mon… Um…"

The Japanese girl stopped, blinked a few times, then turned and looked curiously at the Delightful Child.

"Say, what's your name, anyway?"

The Delightful Child blinked, and seemed to blanch even paler than normal. The Kids Next Door all looked at her curiously.

"Yes… What is your name, anyway?" Numbah One repeated, eyeing the petite girl carefully.

She scrunched her eyes shut, painfully aware of the frantic thumping of her heart. Fragments of Father's speeches flooded into her mind, fierce reminders of his teachings.

__

(Names are another sort of power. Call somebody by their name, you hold a certain power over them. That's why those Brats Next Door have those silly codenames, and why you should always call them by their actual names…)

But the Kids Next Door already held power over her. The bracelet weighing heavily on her right wrist was a constant reminder of that. One of the first things she had drilled into her early on was that when somebody held so much control over you already, it was better to submit, yield whatever they demanded. Otherwise, the consequences…

Her head drooped further, her long sandy blonde hair falling to completely mask her submissive expression.

"It's… Dolores."

"Dolores," sneered Numbah Four, shaking his head. "Figures that a Delightful Dork would have a dorky name like that."

The petite girl didn't bother to respond to his mockery with anger. She kept her head bowed meekly and let Numbah Three and Numbah Five lead her out of the room, away from the rest of her captors… Although, now, she might as well have called them her masters. They owned her now… Whatever they might have planned for her, she wouldn't be able to do anything to stop. They were the ones in control…


	3. Dressing Up

__

Me no own. You no sue. You do sue, me no can work on fic no more. Me grammar get worse by minute… Ah, wait, that's better. Now, on with the show… so to speak.

A pleasant breeze wafted through the propped open window, carrying the sweet scent of the afternoon air into the personal living space of Numbah Five. It was a lovely day, the type many children in the neighborhood spent playing outside, be it in their own backyards, in an empty lot, or a playground.

However, Numbah Five had more important things on her mind than enjoying the wonderful weather.

Currently, she was rummaging through her closet, looking for something to wear. Not something she was going to wear, though, but something that the other occupant of the room could use.

Five glanced over her shoulder surreptitiously, at the petite girl in tattered schoolgirl's clothes sitting meekly in a chair. Numbah Three had slipped to her own chambers to retrieve some of her own clothes, leaving her teammate to keep an eye on their prisoner by herself until she arrived.

'Prisoner'. Numbah Five shook her head slightly, deep chocolate eyes narrowed in thought. Hard to believe that one of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane had ended up as their captive. Just earlier that day, she and her creepy constant companions had set their latest minions on the Kids Next Door, attempting to destroy them once and for all. Now, she was completely alone, trapped in the Treehouse by the device strapped on her right wrist.

There was little resemblance between the slight figure slumped in her seat and the eerie girl that had stood with their worst enemies for so long… at least, little that Numbah Five could see. Her head was bowed, long hair falling over and hiding her face. The perennially prim and pristine schoolgirl outfit was actually dirty for once, ripped and torn in places.

Numbah Five frowned.

"If you're gonna hang here for the time being, that sailor suit has got to go!"

The Delightful Child raised her head and blinked at her, a lost expression on her face. She then looked down at her current attire, and was forced to concede the point: her clothes were all torn and muddy from her earlier activities. She cringed at the mere sight of the dirt and grass smears, pale skin crawling as she thought of all the nasty germs that she had to have gotten on herself. Five rolled her eyes while rooting through her closet.

"There's gotta be something here you can use. Anything's better than that nautical number."

"Ah… but…"

"And she speaks," Five muttered before glancing over her shoulder at the Delightful Child. "Yeah, what?"

"How will…Won't you miss whatever I'm borrowing?"

"Don't worry about it!" Five waved off her concerns.

"I've got stuff you can try too!" piped Three, popping into the room with a huge pile of clothing in her arms. "Here, try this one!"

"But I… oh, all right," she conceded as a bundle was thrust into her hands by the smiling raven-haired girl.

She retreated into the closet and emerged wearing… Numbah Five pushed back the brim of her cap and stared.

"How does… it look?" her former rival asked uncertainly.

It was definitely dreadful. Five could see why even Numbah Three would be willing to part with such a dress. The skirt could only be described as a mass of pastel ruffles, while the blouse's sleeves were puffy to the point of being swollen. The Delightful Child looked ready to collapse from the weight of the ruffled disaster: already she swayed back and forth.

"I… don't think so," Five finally said.

Judging from the grateful look Dolores shot her, she agreed completely.

"Here, try this on instead," suggested Five, handing her another set of clothing.

The pale girl nodded, stumbling back into the closet to change. A few minutes later, she stepped back out into sight for her two-person audience to critique her new attire. Numbah Three cocked her head to one side.

"Something's not right…" she observed.

Five nodded in agreement. Well, she hadn't really expected this particular outfit to work out. Some people just weren't suited for certain 'looks'.

Her red cap fell over Dolores' face, and she tipped it back up, dark-rimmed eyes staring out at the other girls uncertainly.

"Oh well, try again!" chirped Numbah Three.

"Uh, right…"

Several quick changes later, the girls seemed no closer to finding the perfect attire for their temporary roommate. What was more, Numbah Five was beginning to get the impression that Three wasn't taking this completely seriously. The clown and pirate outfits she had recommended were big hints.

Still, she had to admit that Numbah Three's latest choice had some charm.

"I kinda like the blue better, but that looks good on you!" chimed the bubbly girl helpfully.

Dolores tugged on the huge red ribbon that now crowned her tan locks. Compared to the modest bow she usually wore, it was gargantuan, the king of hair ornaments. It was hard keeping her head up, so she let her chin fall to her chest, staring down at the floor.

"I don't… think…"

"It's not quite you," Five commented, shaking her head again.

"Ah… But I… like the color…" murmured Dolores, smoothing out the rich rose fabric of the simple one-piece skirt, studying the thick black sash that cinched her waist and the matching black shoes she wore.

"Well, that's a start, at least…" Five shrugged.

#####

While the girls' game of dress-up went on, the male members of the Kids Next Door passed the time the best way they knew how.

"Prepare to meet your doom!" bellowed Four, lunging in for the kill.

However, his prey dodged nimbly to one side, then spun around and dealt a nasty blow of his own to the fighter's back.

"Hah! Not today, Numbah Four! Today's the day I beat you at your own game!"

"Get real, Numbah Two!"

The clash of titans continued, blade against blade, steel meeting steel. The finely matched opponents snarled at each other, trading blows as freely as they did taunts. The battle raged back and forth, neither gaining a clear advantage.

Numbah One yawned and rested his chin in his palm, watching the match disinterestedly. Fighting games tended to be less fun when you were regulated to a mere onlooker. What annoyed him more, however, was the fact that Numbahs Two and Four didn't seem bothered by the fact that an enemy agent now shared the same roof.

__

(True, she's currently our prisoner, and as long as she doesn't press her luck with the W.A.T.C.H., we should be fine. All the same, one never can be too cautious…)

He looked up at the sound of footsteps outside, straightening in his seat.

"Look sharp, you two," he told the game players sternly.

"What?" Numbah Two paused the game and turned to look at his leader. "Did you say something to me, Numbah One?"

The shades-wearing boy did not reply, instead looking toward the door as it swung open to admit the girls. Numbah Five was her typical collected self, entering first and leaning against the side of the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. You couldn't really tell she was favoring her uninjured leg; she was doing an admirable job masking her limp.

Numbah Three danced in next, smiling hugely. Standing on the other side of the door, she waved her sleeve-covered hands grandly.

"Ta-dah!" she announced, bursting into giggles.

One raised an eyebrow.

"Ta-dah indeed," he echoed evenly, studying the person left standing in the doorway.

Dolores ducked her head, her long tan hair falling in front of her face to help conceal how her pale cheeks burned pink. It had taken a long time before finally the female agents helped her locate an outfit she was actually comfortable wearing… though, given the choice she would have rather found a perfect copy of her usual schoolgirl attire.

Failing that, however, she had settled on a pink vest Five had eventually pulled from the depths of her closet. It had a loose mock turtleneck and was sleeveless, but she'd pulled out a white shirt to go underneath. Somehow Three had come up with a white skirt to match. Plus, Five had made it very clear she wouldn't be missing any of these articles anytime soon, so that wasn't an issue…

"Well, at least she looks presentable," Numbah One commented bluntly, shaking his head.

The Delightful Child felt her face burn brighter at his callous statement. Dolores wondered if he knew how ironic his choice of words was; in all honesty, she found this clothing indecent, the same way she felt all of the Kids Next Door dressed inappropriately.

But she didn't have much of a choice now as to what she could wear. Compared to some of the other things Numbah Three and Numbah Five – Kuki and Abigail – had foisted on her, this was about as appropriate as she could get. The only thing she had been able to keep the same about her appearance was the bow in her hair.

"Hey, looking good!" Numbah Two said amicably, nodding in the direction of the girls. "Nice job, girls!"

"Eh," Numbah Four shrugged noncommittally. "'S all right, I guess… Too bad you couldn't too much 'bout her face…"

Dolores ducked her head down further and slumped her shoulders. She found the floor a lot easier to look at than the blond boy's sneering face.

"Ahem!"

Clearing his throat, Numbah One stood up, folded his arms behind his back and walked over to join the girls. He gave the Delightful Child a curt once-over, dark eyes unreadable behind his shades, then nodded shortly.

"Right, then. Now, if you'll be so kind to come with me, Dolores," his blunt emphasis on her name made the girl wince, "I'll handle your interrogation."

Avoiding his eyes, Dolores hesitantly nodded. The leader of the Kids Next Door glanced at his agents, smiled thinly, then took hold of her right hand. The W.A.T.C.H. pressed up against her wrist underneath the pressure of his hand; she had no doubt this was a calculated move.

The remaining Kids Next Door watched him leave, then the girls turned their attention to the boys and the paused image on the widescreen. Numbah Three grinned and sprang into a beanbag.

"Oh, oh! I get to play the winner!" she declared with a giggle.

"I dunno," Two replied with a playful grin. Turning to the blond beside him, he commented, "What do you think of that, Numbah Fo… Hey, no fair!" he shouted, suddenly realizing that the other boy had un-paused the game and was currently beating the tar out of his fighter.

"Numbah Five thinks you should know that Numbah Three isn't talking about a fighting game," commented the capped agent, slowly crossing the room to sit next to the Japanese girl.

Three just clapped her sleeve-covered hands and cheered.

"Yay! Dancing!"

#####

"Now then, this will go much faster if you don't waste time and just tell me everything I want to know."

Numbah One clasped his hands together and rested them on his desk, eyeing the Delightful Child from Down the Lane sitting on a stool across from him. He was having a difficult time keeping his cool exterior: this was not a chance he had ever expected to have. If this interrogation went well, he could have access to all sorts of top-secret information on the workings of their worst enemies.

Dolores shifted uncomfortably in her seat, sandy blonde bangs hiding her downcast blue eyes. Numbah One definitely held the advantage now, and both knew it. That certainly didn't mean she wanted to just tell him every last detail about herself and her comrades.

Father would be absolutely furious if she betrayed them.

"Now then, I want to know all about you Delightful Children from Down the Lane," One said calmly, tapping his fingers together. "What are the latest plans you've been working on? Besides those mechanical mockeries you unleashed on that playground earlier today, of course."

She ignored him, instead looking furtively around at his room. It was surprisingly much neater than she had expected; so had Numbah Five's room, now that she thought of it…

"What about your home? Any secret entrances we should know about? Hidden passages, secret laboratories, and whatnot?"

There was no way their rooms could match hers when it came to cleanliness, however. Her room was always perfectly straightened and tidy. Of course, she didn't have nearly as much inside as these kids liked to hoard… Just the essentials: a bed, a dresser with her clothes primly folded inside…

"How about weaknesses? Surely you must know the rest of your teammates well enough to know what exactly they're afraid of. What are each of you good and bad at?"

Dolores shook her head.

__

(Personal strengths and weaknesses… What is he talking about? We function as a flawless group… We have no personal weaknesses… Not like him and those agents of his…)

Even as she thought that, however, a soft voice inside pointed out that she wasn't part of the group right now. Without her siblings standing beside her, wasn't she basically weak and helpless…?

"Are you even listening to me?!"

Numbah One slammed his hands down on his desk and stood up. Dolores started at the slam and turned to face him, eyes wide. The leader of the Kids Next Door scowled.

"You Delightful Children may think that you're better than us," he growled, "but understand this: the rules of the game have changed. As long as you're here, you're our prisoner, not our 'better'. You never were better than us. So you'd better quit hiding in your delusions and face the real world."

She stared back at him and tried to decide whether she felt more insulted or frightened by his cold words. She certainly didn't need to be reminded of how terrible a spot she was in, or how trapped she was. The band encircling her right wrist was reminder enough.

A flash of movement at the very corner of her line of vision grabbed Dolores' attention, and she glanced over. Briefly, her eyes lit up with surprise, then a faint smile appeared on her face.

"I do know one weakness," she admitted softly.

Numbah One blinked, then smiled.

__

(Finally, I'm getting somewhere!)

"Do tell," he said coolly, resting his chin on the back of his joined hands.

Dolores returned his smile with a faint one of her own.

"You are horribly afraid of bugs."

One's face fell.

"What?"

In response, Dolores simply lifted one arm and pointed. Numbah One turned to see a fly perched on the corner of his desk, studying the pair with its multi-faceted eyes.

"GAH!"

Jumping from his seat, Numbah One scrambled for a control panel on one of the far walls. Before he could reach it and press anything, however, the fly took off on its own, zipping out the open window. The boy immediately ran over and slammed it shut. He sighed in relief, then turned to look at Dolores.

The Delightful Child just shrugged her shoulders and looked at him quietly, not saying a word. She couldn't hide a small smile at his reaction, however.

"Very funny," he said sarcastically.

"I thought so as well, yes."

Numbah One raised an eyebrow, then shook his head suddenly.

"Get out of my sight," he ordered, pointing at the door. "Go immediately back to the meeting room where the others are. They can deal with you for a while."

"Fine. As you wish."

Dolores stood, curtsied politely toward Numbah One, then turned and walked toward the exit.

"Don't waste time wandering around!" he called after her sternly. Tapping his wrist meaningfully, he added, "Trust me, we'll know if you try anything!"

"You needn't worry," was her quiet reply. "I don't plan on abusing your trust."

Numbah One glared after her suspiciously until the door shut behind her. He really didn't want to know how she knew about his little phobia, and yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Delightful Children knew about them.

Meanwhile, Dolores walked swiftly down the hall. She had been honest: she wasn't about to try anything. Not when she still had the W.A.T.C.H. to worry about, not to mention the fact that these Kids Next Door outnumbered her five to one.

Not that she could have taken on even the weakest of their number by herself. Fighting face-to-face wasn't a specialty of the Delightful Children. Besides, it was barbaric.

There was no doubt in her mind, however, that things were going to turn out fine in the end. That foolish Nigel didn't realize that the fly he had just let escape outside was really one of their delightful little gadgets. As soon as her siblings saw that she was trapped in the Treehouse, surely they would launch a rescue attempt and free her from her imprisonment.

Things would go back to the way they were before. Dolores was sure of it. The same way she was sure that she wouldn't have things any other way.


	4. Dolls Don't Dance

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I may not own the Kids Next Door, but I can still reference the actual episodes while writing fanfiction, right? See how many of the references where the mission isn't directly named you recognize…

Numbah Four kneeled on the floor, head bowed, blonde bangs covering most of his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth grinding together, sweat glistening on his face and neck. His shoulders heaved with each ragged breath he took.

He hated defeat. He knew he was defeated, but his pride cringed at the prospect of having to admit it.

He knew that he completely looked the part of the defeated right now, too, and hated that too. But his aching, shaking legs refused to support him. He could barely lift his head to look up at his victorious opponent as they stood proud and tall over his kneeling figure.

"Yay! I won again!" she cheered, arms raised high as she pranced about.

"So what else is new?" Numbah Five asked sardonically.

"Yeah, you always win at that game," noted Numbah Two.

Numbah Three continued to cheer and dance in place while a panting Four crouched next to her and slowly recovered. Two and Five had watched the one-sided contest from the comfort of their beanbag chairs. Two had gotten over his loss to Four just by watching him lose badly against the bubbly girl, while Five was secretly contented with the fact that her injured ankle meant she couldn't be her friend's next victim.

Dolores sat quietly in a corner of the room and observed the four friends interacting with no small amount of curiosity. When she'd first arrived, Kuki and Wallabee had already been engrossed in their game, which as far as she could tell involved stomping on a mat in time to the arrows that appeared on the huge screen in front of them. At the same time, a loud song blared over the speakers – apparently what they were supposed to be 'dancing' to.

The Delightful Child was stumped. She'd never witnessed a game quite so odd before. And the music that had gone along with it… she couldn't quite understand it. Some fast-paced beat with some woman singing perkily about butterflies and samurais… two things Dolores hadn't thought were connected in any fashion.

It was a far cry from the music she was used to. Back home, whenever she and her siblings had wanted to listen to music, they would have to crank up an antique record player Father had been kind enough to reward them with. The music was always classical, if slightly warped by the age of the old machine…

Numbah Four finally lurched to his feet, wobbling back and forth. Apparently ignorant of his exhaustion, Three continued to jump up and down in place, clapping her sleeve-covered hands.

"Again! Let's play again!"

Four's eyes bugged out, and the blonde fighter staggered away from his mat as fast as his uncooperative legs would carry him. He got maybe two feet away before Three popped up beside him and grabbed his arm.

"C'mon, Numbah Four! It's more fun with more people!" she pleaded.

"N-no way! Let someone else have a turn!"

Numbah Five snickered at the fighter's lame excuse, then froze as Three turned and looked directly at her. Quickly she motioned at her bandaged ankle and shook her head, then sighed in relief as Three looked away. Even when she wasn't injured she had a difficult time matching the energetic girl's skill at her dancing games.

Two was just as eager to avoid going head-to-head against Three. When she looked at him, he waved his hands and shook his head furiously.

"Nuh-uh, not me. I can't…"

"Why not?" Three asked curiously.

"I… I've got work to do! T-the S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. still needs to be repaired, you know! Yeah, that's it! I'd better go do that right now…"

With that, the mechanic hopped up and hurried out of the room, leaving a perplexed Three staring after him while Four and Five fought back laughter at his expense.

"…Awww…"

Numbah Three was dangerously close to pouting. She liked playing games with her friends; it was much more fun that way! But now it looked like the only way she'd get a partner for this round would be if she went and tried to get Numbah One to come play… and she knew he didn't like being disturbed…

She frowned briefly, then suddenly her eyes opened wide. A brilliant idea had just struck, and her face lit up with joy as she turned around.

"Hey, why don't you play with me?"

"…What?"

Dolores shrank back in her seat when Kuki advanced, staring at the smiling girl incredulously. She was not the only one startled by the raven-haired agent's actions.

"What?! What are you thinking, Three?!" demanded Numbah Four. "She's one of them, you know!"

"But I want to play with somebody," Three replied, looking back at the blonde boy. "You said to let someone else have a turn. Why not her?"

"She's one of those Delightful Dorks!" Four spat.

"I know. I bet they don't get to play a lot, too. Do you, Dolores?" Three looked back at the petite girl and smiled invitingly.

Dolores stared blankly at Kuki, blue eyes huge and confused. The Japanese girl's smile seemed… genuinely friendly. Considering how close she was standing to her, surely Dolores should have been able to see some hint that it was fake… some clue to her ulterior motive, but…

…Unless Kuki truly wasn't hiding anything.

"…Ah… I… W-we certainly never had any games quite like that one," she answered awkwardly.

Numbah Five surreptitiously studied the petite girl, her dark, calculating eyes hidden by the brim of her trademark cap. That reply was obviously evasive, dodging the issue at the heart of Three's question while supplying an answer that would still satisfy the perky girl.

But despite Dolores' dodge, Five had a feeling she could infer an answer to the actual question based on the petite girl's reaction alone.

"Aw, go on," she prompted, waving one hand lazily at Three. "Numbah Five says you should show her how it's done…"

It was clear from the joyous look on Numbah Three's face that she didn't need any more prompting. It was also clear from the anxious look on Dolores' face that she felt she didn't need this.

"C'mon, let's play!"

Three grabbed the petite girl's wrists and yanked her out of her seat. Dolores protested weakly as the bubbly agent dragged her along, shaking her head vigorously.

"I can't…"

"You can!"

"I don't know how…"

"I'll teach you!"

"B-but…"

"Don't worry! It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, fun," Four echoed, snickering at the Delightful Dork's plight.

The blonde fighter took a seat and leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. He'd planned to go back to his room and relax, maybe kick around a few training robots once he'd recovered, but decided to stay and watch. His legs were still worn out, and besides, this was something he didn't want to miss…

#####

Numbah One stared at the computer screen, scanning through the files he'd been working with. Sheets of data stretched before his shade-covered eyes, offering all sorts of intriguing information he might be able to put to use…if only he knew how.

He'd called up several mission logs to review while he entered his thoughts on their latest objective. It was common KND practice for all agents involved on an assignment to enter their own comments into the file. The observations made by all operatives were important: they allowed the reader to see multiple viewpoints of the same case.

Often, one agent saw something none of the others noticed, and this detail could prove to be vital. They might discover an enemy weakness, or the key to another plot. Or it might be unimportant.

Being able to go back and review missions from the eyes of his teammates was always interesting to Numbah One. KND reports were usually brutally honest, meaning that all sorts of comments were present – including any grievances or complaints they had. If somebody was dissatisfied with one of their comrades, their criticism showed up in their account.

Numbah One had read quite a few reports where one of his friends complained about his leadership. He wasn't totally upset by this, however. Usually, he could anticipate when complaints would show up – and often, agreed to a certain degree. After all, typically the complaints came after a mission went awry… to the point where even he was upset with himself.

The disastrous 'Operation: P.O.I.N.T' was a perfect example, in fact. In retrospect, a deadly combination of misinformation and misinterpretation had doomed that mission from the start. He'd made that clear in his account of events afterward. It was one file he tended not to look over often.

Currently he was reviewing several of their missions where they had clashed with the Delightful Children from Down the Lane. The multi-colored observations were organized together, merged into collective narratives of each mission.

Each agent in his sector had one color that represented their comments: Numbah One had red, Numbah Two used blue, Numbah Three used green, Numbah Four had dark yellow, and Numbah Five typed in navy blue. This was an easy way to know who made what comments – and also kept all the information from being just boring black and white and shades of gray.

He reviewed a few passages from one mission: while he'd read over it several times before, it was always good to see what his friends thought of how things had progressed. One found it particularly interesting considering what had occurred during their last mission.

__

[So, then, Five came up with this great plan to save everyone, but there was one teeny tiny itsy-bitsy little problem with it. See, in order for it to work, we needed to get help from the DCfDtL. And I was like, "No way!" but she said "Yeah." and Numbah One said "We have to for the sake of all the kids here." so I went "Ok…"]

One smiled at the sight of Numbah Two's words: even when writing, the mechanic had a tendency to ramble. His eyes skipped down past the colored commentary to rest on a short stanza by the other male member of his team:

__

[What was Five thinking?!? We can't trust THEM! I'da rather knawed thru the bars with my teeth first than work with them !@#$%^&*() Delightful DORKS!!!!!!!]

Numbah One frowned. He wished Four would have the decency to spellcheck his entries before submitting them. He also disliked how the fighter liked to insert lines of random punctuation in substitution for swearing – not to mention the fact that he had a sneaking suspicion Four didn't really know a lot of cuss words and just added those random lines in to get his point across.

There wasn't much One could do about it however. He could run spellchecker now, but he preferred to leave the entries untouched, unedited. Even touching them up could land him in trouble later if one of his friends happened to see the changes. They could accuse him of editing out certain details – something he'd never even think of doing!

Closing out the file, he pulled up the current mission log and prepared to enter his thoughts on how the mission had progressed. He'd already gotten a good portion of his report finished, but was a bit stymied on how to continue.

Numbah One frowned thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his desktop. He started typing, slowly, considering his choice of words carefully even while entering them.

__

[After Numbah Four finished off the slide-monster, he decided to use one of its legs as a makeshift weapon. Acting as if it were a misshapen baseball bat, he first assaulted the swingset, striking one of its legs and driving it to the ground. Numbah Four then flung the weapon at the Delightful Children from Down the Lane. This destroyed the platform they were on, forcing them and their insidious creations into retreat.]

Numbah One's brow furrowed, and he shook his head.

__

[After achieving victory, we returned to base, where Numbah Three informed us of the fact that she had discovered a potential hostage. It seems that the Delightful Children from Down the Lane left one of their own behind to fend for herself when they fled the battlefield.]

__

[The girl, who claims to go by the name 'Dolores', is currently incarcerated in the Treehouse. The primary means of restraint is the W.A.T.C.H. that has been strapped to her right arm. I have already conducted a short debriefing with her, but so far have found…no information of particular note.]

That wasn't really a lie, Numbah One assured himself. After all, did all the agents really need to know about his little phobia when it came to bugs…?

__

(But how did SHE know about that anyway?)

The leader shook his head, then saved the entry before closing everything out. Since the mission was still technically active until they reached some permanent resolution on the Delightful Child issue, he'd have plenty of time to finish his report afterwards.

He shut off the computer and stood up, then cupped his chin in one hand and began to think. There were more pressing issues to consider currently, and the first order of business was just where the bloody heck Dolores was going to sleep tonight.

The Treehouse wasn't exactly equipped to hold prisoners for any long period of time. Since they had no idea how long the petite girl was going to be around, they had a small problem in that regard. It wasn't like they had a cell they could just toss her into and be done with it.

True, they could try contacting another KND base with proper facilities and ship her off there, but One wasn't too keen on that idea. He preferred knowing that their captive was close at hand, especially when there were the remaining Delightful Children from Down the Lane to factor into the equation.

He didn't know what to make of the fact that they'd apparently abandoned one of their own. He couldn't help wondering if this was deliberate, all part of some diabolical scheme. True, Dolores seemed genuinely shocked by her current situation, and he hadn't seen any signs of a transmitter or anything, but when their worst enemies were involved, he had to consider anything possible.

So sending her away was out of the question. Numbah One didn't like the idea of just locking her in some room until the morning, either. He preferred knowing that she was somewhat supervised, so that left one option…keeping her in one of their rooms.

"But who's the best candidate for that?" he muttered under his breath.

He was out of the question, of course. There was no way he could keep an agent of the enemy in his room, W.A.T.C.H. or no W.A.T.C.H.. The device that would keep her from ducking out a window likely wouldn't bar her from searching his room, both for any intelligence she could gather on the KNDs and the control panel for her bracelet.

Numbah Four was an even worse choice. The tough kid had made it clear from the get-go that he didn't want the petite girl around. In his eyes, she was just Dolores the Delightful Dork and that was that. Sticking her in his room was just begging for disaster: Four'd beat the tar out of her the second they were left alone.

While Numbah Two was acting a bit nicer about the whole mess, he also wasn't a good candidate. His room was just as large as the others were, but his plane/bed was raised too far off the ground. True, it would give him a good vantage point to see whatever Dolores might try, but getting down to try and stop her in time? That was something One didn't want to test.

That left just the girls as possible 'roommates' for their prisoner. Numbah One could see potential pros and cons for assigning the responsibility to either one. Five was the more levelheaded, but her recent injury could prove a drawback. At the same time, the fact that Numbah Three didn't seem to appreciate the seriousness of the situation she'd brought upon the team could be a very bad sign.

Finally, he threw up his hands and decided to consult the girls directly about the issue. After all, they'd be the ones that would have to live with the result, so, as a leader, it was only fair that he consult them for their opinions first, correct?

He activated the two-way loudspeaker, but before he could even open his mouth to summon the girls he was nearly deafened by a blast of loud music. Immediately switching it off, he sighed disgustedly. Of course it had to be his luck that Three would be playing that game of hers…

Getting up, Numbah One headed for the common room. He entered, then stopped right in the doorway and just stared, arching an eyebrow.

Numbah Three had obviously just finished another round, for the dark-haired girl was cheering and hopping up and down in place, celebrating her latest victory. This didn't surprise One at all: she was the undisputed master of that game. 

What surprised him was that Dolores was collapsed next to the celebrating girl, the absolute picture of exhaustion. The petite girl was even paler than usual, and she was bent over so far her short bangs nearly brushed the floor. Her entire body heaved as she gulped in air unashamedly: maintaining a steady supply in her aching lungs was currently more important than maintaining her typical detached delightful bearing.

Numbah Four was hanging out of his seat and howling with laughter. He didn't care that he was about to fall off, he was enjoying this way too much to care.

"Man! You shoulda seen it, One!" he called, noticing his leader standing nearby and hastily wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "What a riot!"

"Numbah Five thinks it was almost as good as your earlier performance," commented the capped girl wryly.

"Oh! Look, Numbah One's here! You want to show him how well you can play?" Three asked brightly.

"You call that well?!" Four howled, then roared with laughter again, finally toppling from his seat.

Dolores looked at Numbah Three with an expression very close to what One supposed a deer caught in headlights might have. Even the way her disheveled hair hung in her face couldn't hide the terror in those huge blue eyes.

"T-this is some sort of insidious torture, isn't it?" she asked.

Numbah One smirked, then went to join Numbah Five. The leader had the feeling that the choice had just been made a lot easier for him…

With all the chaos in the room, nobody noticed a small fly sitting in one corner, silently taking everything in with its multi-faceted eyes.


	5. Through Another's Eyes

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I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door. That doesn't mean I can't take certain liberties in this fanfic, like, say, guessing at what color eyes they have. Yay for creative licenses! 

"Welcome back to Numbah Five's room," announced the stealth operative, motioning grandly with one hand while shutting the door behind her.

"Mmm-hmm."

Dolores looked like she could frankly care less about where she was, unless it involved a place for her to sleep. The Delightful Child was on the verge of collapse, swaying back and forth where she stood, disheveled sandy blonde hair hanging limply over her exhausted face. The dark circles under her blue eyes looked even darker than before.

Five smiled, shook her head, then pointed over her shoulder at a nearby chair.

"Go on ahead and take a seat right over there."

"T-thank you…"

The pale girl bobbed in a clumsy curtsy attempt, but only succeeded in nearly falling over. Numbah Five reached out quickly and steadied the lass by holding onto her shoulder until she regained her balance. Dolores looked at her sheepishly.

"Thank…"

"Just go sit," Five instructed her, gently pushing her toward the chair.

Dolores nodded awkwardly, then stumbled over and collapsed into her seat face first. The soft cushions felt so wonderful that she temporarily forgot all else and simply reveled in the blissful sensation of burying her face in the pliant surface. Wrapping her arms around the pillow, she pulled it closer, sighing contentedly. She could fall asleep like this…was already starting to drift off…

A soft cough behind her caused her eyes to snap back open suddenly. Remembering just where she was and how terrible a bind she was in, Dolores immediately righted herself and turned to face her host – no, her captor.

Numbah Five was standing in front of her, arms folded over her chest, smiling. Her familiar red cap was hiding her eyes, but Dolores didn't need to see them to sense that they were twinkling with amusement.

She looked down at her feet, then belatedly saw that she was still hugging the pillow, though now she was crushing it against her chest instead of her face. Blushing pink, she immediately shoved it behind her, then started smoothing out her skirt, long hair falling over her face.

__

(What a silly thing to do. Father would be severely displeased if he saw me behaving in such a nonsensical manner.)

The thought snapped Dolores out of her awkwardness. She straightened in her seat, squaring her shoulders, legs pressed together, hands folded primly in her lap. Her expression shifted to a more neutral one, and she closed her eyes tightly. Seeing the blonde girl's demeanor alter, Numbah Five frowned.

"That's what Numbah Five can't stand about you Delightful Kids," she shook her head and muttered.

Dolores opened her eyes. Five could practically see the spark of curiosity ignited by her comment: though something dimmed its luster, it was still present, an undeniable quality that stood out plainly to the intuitive agent.

The thing that creeped out Numbah Five the most about the Delightful Children from Down the Lane was their eyes. It wasn't that she disliked blue eyes or anything silly like that: it was more the fact that they were so maddeningly empty.

Numbah One's eyes were usually hidden by the sunglasses he wore, but on the rare times that he moved or removed his shades, it was easy to see intelligence gleaming in the sapphire depths. They were so dark they were almost black, solemn and serious.

Though you couldn't tell by the aviator's goggles he always wore, Numbah Two's eyes were blue too. But unlike Numbah One's eyes, his constantly shimmered – alight with curiosity, compassion, humor… Though he liked mimicking his comic book and video game heroes, trying to act cool and witty like the guys on television and in the movies, his bright cerulean eyes always shone clearly with the real him.

Numbah Three's eyes were even more cheerful, polished chestnut orbs with hints of other colors in their depths. On the rare occasions when the energetic girl was sad, the bright mahogany panes glimmered with tears. On the even rarer occasions she was mad, they flared a fiery cinnamon. But typically they shone with innocence and pure, unbridled joy.

Numbah Four, meanwhile, glared out challengingly at the world at large from behind his tangled blonde bangs. The sharp green surfaces dared anyone to just try and cross him, promising pain for any foolish enough to think it. Five knew better, however: buried beneath that hard jade facade was a boy with a kinder heart than he wanted to acknowledge.

It was a completely different deal when it came to the Delightful Children from Down the Lane, however. Not only were all of their eyes the exact same color, they held nothing. Numbah Five couldn't glean anything off those glassy surfaces, gaining any sort of feel for the person they belonged to.

It was kind of like looking into some twisted funhouse mirror. Each of the Delightful Children was a pale reflection of what a real kid should be, lacking real substance beneath the neat-and-tidy shell of a prim and proper schoolchild. But now there were hairline cracks spreading through the mirror, and Numbah Five was starting to see glimpses of somebody on the other side.

__

(But how the heck do I keep her from pulling back into her shell?)

Numbah Five rubbed her chin thoughtfully. Dolores watched her carefully, the curious glint in her large blue eyes brightening a little despite the fact that she remained perfectly still.

"Say, Dolores… Numbah Five has a small question for ya."

"Please, no more questions," the dutiful daughter pleaded, shaking her head. "I'm not going to betray Father or my family, so it will be a waste of time to…"

"Don't worry, Numbah Five's not gonna ask anything about that."

The blonde lass blinked, and the curiosity in her eyes intensified.

"Numbah Five just wants to know… Why did you shout for us to 'watch out' before when we were fighting?"

The Delightful Child stiffened. A mixture of emotions flashed in her widened eyes all at once – bewilderment, horror, embarrassment, panic – Five took note of all of these. But there was one emotion that quickly overwhelmed all else: confusion.

"I-I'm not sure…"

"C'mon," Numbah Five said flatly. "When your swing monster had Numbah One trapped, remember?"

"…The swingset had him tied up for a long period of time," Dolores pointed out. "Since the conflict began, if I remember correctly."

"It wasn't that long ago, you know. Look, when I went to help him escape, you and the rest of your creepy clan claimed I was too late. Then they ordered the swingset to finish him off…"

"I remember. As you pointed out, it was only a short while ago."

"Right, but see, here's the thing. Somebody shouted 'Watch out!' right before Numbah Four started knocking things down. Numbah Five knows it wasn't one of us, and there was something else that struck me as odd, too."

"…What?" Dolores asked when the capped girl did not continue.

Numbah Five smiled and leaned forward a little, tipping her hat back so that she was looking the other girl straight in the eyes. Her deep chocolate eyes gleamed mischievously, hinting that she knew things the other didn't know…or, maybe, didn't want to acknowledge.

"Only four voices ordered the swings to 'Finish him off,' girl. And they didn't even finish before somebody shouted that warning. Now, you gonna try to tell Numbah Five that that's just a coincidence, or you gonna tell me the truth?" 

Dolores stared back at her, and again Five could clearly see the warring emotions in her pale blue eyes. Then the petite girl averted her gaze to one side. She absently twisted the edge of her white skirt with both hands.

"…If you must know, I was merely trying to warn my siblings of the impending danger," she answered quietly. "I…noticed that Wallabee had armed himself with a piece of one of the dismantled equipment. Since nobody else seemed to have noticed this, I thought it would be prudent to warn them of the incoming threat…"

"Uh-huh."

Numbah Five's expression clearly said that she wasn't buying completely into Dolores' story. However, she decided not to press the point anymore. The day had been trying for both girls: her ankle was beginning to hurt again. A good night's rest would do wonders for both of them.

"Well, Numbah Five's going to hit the sack soon," she announced, stretching.

"…Why would you strike a bag?" wondered Dolores.

Numbah Five stopped in mid-stretch and looked at the pale girl askance. Dolores looked back at her curiously. Shaking her head, Five smiled amusedly.

"…It's an expression, Dolores. It means Numbah Five is going to get some sleep."

"Ah," Dolores nodded, then asked, "I suppose that means you're going to escort me to the confinement area first?"

"Nah," Five shook her head.

"But… Why not?"

"Don't got one," was Five's blunt response as she turned away. "All we need is that W.A.T.C.H. you've got on, apparently."

"Well then, where exactly will I be expected to sleep?"

"You're sitting on it."

Dolores looked reflexively down, then back at the capped girl incredulously.

"Surely, you don't mean…here?!"

"Where else would I mean?"

"B-but this is a chair, not a bed! You can't expect me to…"

"You were perfectly willing to fall asleep there when we came in," Five waved off the other girl's protests and headed for her closet. "You'll manage."

"But, but, Abigail!"

"It's Numbah Five here, Dolores. Deal with it."

The blonde lass sputtered and stammered as the sly agent walked away. Soon realizing her protests fell on uncaring ears, Dolores huffed and collapsed back into her seat. Part of her long sandy hair fell in front of her face, and she pushed it back behind her ear, irritated.

__

(Of all the nerve! How does she expect me to sleep in such a place! This isn't a perfectly flat bed, it's a chair! You sit in chairs, not sleep in them!)

Resting her chin in both hands, she fumed for a few minutes. Gradually, however, her anger waned as she considered her situation more.

__

(It could be far worse, I suppose. I was expecting to be thrown into a freezing, filthy jail cell until they decided what other tortures to inflict upon my person… Or until the rest of my siblings arrived.)

Thinking of her family made the rest of her frustration fade, and Dolores straightened in her seat again. She smiled faintly: for all of her uncomfortable questions and acting so sure of herself, Numbah Five was just as clueless as the rest of the Kids Next Door. They had no idea that her family had a way of spying on them, or that their minuscule aerial camera had already informed her siblings of her presence here.

They'd find out soon enough, however, when the rest of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane showed up to retrieve her. Perhaps Father would even allow them to borrow one of his most destructive machines for the purpose… after all, she was one of her daughters. Wasn't that reason enough?

Surely they would be along soon. All that she needed to do was wait for them.

Numbah Five reappeared, tugging at the cloth belt that cinched her dark blue robes at the waist. She still had her cap on, and her hair was still pulled back in its tight braid.

"Goodnight," she said with a short wave in Dolores' direction.

"Pleasant dreams," Dolores replied automatically without thinking.

Five looked at her oddly, then shrugged it off and headed off to bed. The lights shut off, leaving Dolores staring into the darkness, waiting for the rest of her creepy comrades to arrive and liberate her from this strange prison.

#####

"Dolores…"

The familiar voice echoed in her ears and Dolores stirred, blue eyes partially opening. When had she nodded off? She didn't remember abandoning her vigil, sweet as the siren song of slumber had been…

"Wake up, girl. It's time to go home."

The first thing she saw when she raised her head was a pair of glowing yellow eyes. Immediately her foggy mind snapped to full attention and her eyes opened wide. The darkness sharpened into a tall, imposing male figure leaning over her. Although his body was completely wrapped in shadow, Dolores didn't need to see his face. She knew instinctively who he was.

"Father! You came for me?"

This last was tempered by honest confusion; she definitely hadn't expected him to actually come retrieve her in person! Usually he left all things concerning the Kids Next Door to his Delightful Children, though he did occasionally get directly involved…

__

(Why wouldn't he come? I'm his daughter, after all!)

"Of course I came for you, you stupid girl," he replied curtly. An unseen eyebrow arched as he continued, "Considering I found you sleeping instead of trying to escape yourself, it's a good thing I did take matters into my own hands."

A deep pink tint spread over Dolores' face at his blunt observation. Before she could think of some defense, the shadowed adult gripped her right wrist tightly. An intense heat spread across her arm, and the petite girl winced, but did not yank her hand away. Soon, the nearly unbearable warmth subsided, and he let go. Looking down reflexively at her arm, Dolores saw that the W.A.T.C.H. had been melted into a smoldering hoop. It disintegrated before her eyes.

"Now then, come along, dear," Father commanded. "It's high time we were headed home."

"Yes, Father."

Dolores stood and looked about. At first, the darkness was impenetrable, but as she cast her gaze around, the shadows sharpened, solidifying into the rest of Numbah Five's private chambers. The first detail that really jumped out at her was the fact that one of the walls was completely gone, revealing the darkened world outside. She spotted the rest of the Delightful Children waiting there, riding in one of Father's most prized weapons of mass destruction.

Across the black expanse their eyes met. The quartet smiled at her, and she smiled back, blue eyes lighting up at the welcome sight of the rest of her family awaiting her return. The impulse to rush to rejoin them was almost painful to resist, but she knew Father would disapprove. Even in such times, she couldn't allow herself to indulge in such foolish things, especially with him looking on.

Instead, she started forward at a polite walk, fighting the urge to run. A few steps forward…then Dolores abruptly stopped short.

"Something wrong, Dolores?" Father asked from somewhere behind her.

The fragile girl failed to answer, for she was far too distracted by what had come into focus before her. More of the darkness had melted away allowing her to see clearly which wall had been broken through.

It was the wall that Numbah Five's bed had been closest to. Only now all she could see of the bed was a few pitiful scraps of dark fabric scattered throughout the smashed debris.

Dolores' knees threatened to give out, her legs were suddenly shaking so badly. A vicious pressure twisted in her chest, and she suddenly felt horribly ill. She swayed dangerously, but before she could collapse Father was suddenly beside her, one hand resting firmly on her quaking shoulder.

"Whatever is the matter, Dolores dear?" he asked. "As you can see, I've already punished one of those annoying brats for daring to kidnap one of my precious daughters. You no longer have to worry, for she won't be bothering you or the rest of your siblings anymore…"

She could hear the satisfied sneer in his haughty tone, and a wave of nausea swept through her. Even as her horrified gaze searched the rubble in vain for some sign that the dark girl had escaped, it fell upon a tattered red cap lying on its back, empty except for a splintered piece of wood that had pierced the fabric.

"Now then, we really should be taking our leave, dear," Father repeated.

But Dolores was unable to move. She couldn't avert her eyes from the abandoned cap lying empty in the rubble, much as she wanted to. The tightness in her chest was increasing.

__

(I shouldn't care. She was an enemy, wasn't she? She was the enemy. She was the enemy. She was…)

Dimly she heard the sounds of footsteps rapidly approaching, and familiar voices shouted from outside the room's door.

"Numbah Five! Are you okay?! Numbah Five!!!"

"Kids Next Door, break down that door!" Numbah One ordered over the distressed shrieking of Two and Three.

Dolores tore her eyes away from the lonely cap and looked at the door just as it bucked. She could just picture Numbah Four throwing his weight against it in an effort to get it to open. Beside her, Father also turned and looked at the doorway.

"Well, well," he sneered. "If there's so desperate to join their friend, I suppose I should oblige them…"

He pointed both hands toward the door, palms out, and a vibrant orange fire surrounded them. Dolores stared at him, completely horror-struck. The door buckled again: the remaining Kids Next Door were making progress, and soon would come inside only to be greeted with utter destruction.

"This should be fun," Father chuckled. "I wonder who the lucky one who comes in first will be…"

"S-stop…"

"Hmm?" Father's yellow eyes traveled from the pounding door to the trembling girl huddled beside him. "Did you say something, Dolores darling?"

"Stop it…s-stop it, please," she stammered through chattering teeth. Her head was bent low, long sandy hair covering most of her tense face, unable to look up at her parent as she pleaded, "Please, let's just go home now…"

Dead silence reigned for an instant. Even the doorway stopping buckling violently.

"Why…you…insolent little BRAT!"

A flaming hand swept across Dolores' face, knocking the fragile girl flat onto her back. She trembled violently as Father loomed over her, his entire body now ablaze with the same fury that burned in his deep yellow eyes. Once again she found herself unable to look away though she fervently wished to.

"How dare you defy me?!" he snarled. "You seem to have forgotten your place in things, Dolores. If I have to remind you, then so BE IT!"  


"Please, Father!" sobbed Dolores, cowering helplessly before the incensed adult's wrath.

Desperately she looked toward her fellow Delightful Children for aid, only to find that they had vanished. She was alone, facing Father unsupported. He grabbed her shoulders, fingers tightening like vises until they pierced the skin underneath. The fires flared brighter, threatening to consume her completely. Dolores screamed at the top of her lungs, begging uselessly for mercy as she began to burn alive.

#####

"Father, no! Please, Father, please!"

Dolores thrashed from side to side, fruitlessly fighting the hands gripping her shoulders. Her frenzied mind failed to grasp immediately that these hands were not as big as she recalled, nor was the grip as powerful and threatening.

"Calm down, girl! Calm down," a soothing female voice called out.

"No, no, no…"

Gradually the frail girl's flailing and protesting waned, her eyes flying open to find the last face she had expected. She stared unbelievingly at the girl standing in front of her. Numbah Five made a mental note of the pure confusion in the other's expression.

"Numbah Five didn't know you Delightful Children were prone to nightmares," she commented with a shake of her head, braid swishing behind her.

"W-what?"

"Anyway, it's past time for breakfast," the capped girl continued. "If you want anything, you'll probably have to get it yourself. So hurry up."

Dolores quickly looked around the room and saw that everything was completely intact. The walls were all standing, and sunlight streamed through all of the windows, providing plenty of natural light to drive away the shadows.

Everything had been a dream. Father had never come to save her – and neither had the rest of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane.

Dolores was too confused right then to know if that was supposed to be a good thing or not. She absently hugged one of the cushions tightly to her chest, recalling how horrified she had been when she saw that in order to save her, her family had smashed in the wall and taken out Numbah Five in the process.

Part of her claimed she shouldn't have been so affected. The capped girl was one of the Kids Next Door, one of her worst enemies, her captors. She should have been happy at the thought of her receiving such a punishment…

__

(Shouldn't she?)

Another issue clamored for her attention, though she wasn't really certain she wanted to dwell for long on either topic. Her unexplainable relief at learning she had merely been dreaming about that nightmarish rescue aside, there had been no actual rescue attempt.

The rest of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane knew she was here…so why hadn't they actually come to retrieve her?


	6. The 'Breakfast Incident'

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Guess what hasn't changed? I still don't own the rights to Codename: Kids Next Door. I'll be sure to keep you updated on any changes in this…if any ever actually happen, that is.

Numbah Two was in the kitchen when Numbah Five escorted Dolores there. The pudgy pilot was in the process of procuring plenty of provisions. An overflowing glass of chocolate milk was precariously perched beside a pillar of pancakes, the latter oozing with sticky syrup and slabs of butter, all on a dangerously wobbling tray while he juggled a grapefruit and orange in the other hand.

"Hey girls!" he called out once he spotted the pair watching him. "You want some of this?"

"No thanks," the capped girl held up a hand. "Numbah Five can grab her own eats."

"I…I respectfully decline as well," stammered Dolores, eyeing the mounds of food with no small amount of trepidation. "I can find my own fare, thank you…"

"Suit yourselves…"

The mechanic shrugged, then tottered away to enjoy his robust breakfast elsewhere. The petite girl stared after him, half-expecting his foot to find some slippery board and send his platter and everything aboard it flying. Numbah Five chortled and shook her head, then started rummaging through the cabinets in search of her own sustenance.

"…Does Hoag…Numbah Two always procure that much for his morning meal?" the Delightful Child asked finally, turning back to face the quiet agent.

"Nah… Sometimes he eats more, sometimes he eats less," replied Five, still hunting for whatever sounded good this morning to her stomach. Feeling Dolores' dubious stare, she added, "He probably pulled an all-nighter or close to it repairing the S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. and worked up an appetite. You know how it is."

Dolores did not know how it was. However, rather than pursue the issue further, she started examining her surroundings again. Somehow, she hadn't expected for the Kids Next Door to have an actual kitchen as part of their Treehouse – she had figured that their parents brought out meals to their children when they were off playing in their base.

But this was apparently an actual kitchen built directly into their Treehouse, microwave, stove, oven and all. Everything appeared to be in perfect working order: the most telling evidence of this was the cooling skillet still resting on the stove. Dolores examined it closer and cringed at the sight of burning scraps of batter still stuck to the gleaming black surface.

__

(The Kids Next Door are most self-sufficient than we believed…but they apparently still can't clean up after themselves.)

Still, she couldn't help but find it fascinating that at least one of the Kids Next Door possessed rudimentary cooking skills. It did make a bit of sense that they would be able to provide for themselves to some degree, but… It was something Dolores had never really thought about before.

__

(And a boy, no less… I wonder if any of the other male members have learned the chef's trade as well?)

For no apparent reason, she got a surprisingly vivid picture in her head of Numbah Four wearing a frilly pink apron over his orange hoodie and blue jeans. The absurdity of the thought caused Dolores to giggle.

Numbah Five immediately looked over her shoulder at the girl. While the Delightful Child had been standing around lost in her musings, she had finally located a box of toaster pastries that sounded good enough. A pair was currently roasting in the toaster oven sitting in front of her, and she had been retrieving a plate when she heard the other girl chuckling softly.

Five smiled slyly. While she was a little curious as to what exactly Dolores had found so amusing, she was more pleased by the fact that she was laughing at all. Even better was the fact that it hadn't been the monotone cackling she so often heard on missions against the other girl's group. This was a far lighter sort of laughter.

"Care to share what's so funny, girl?" she inquired, eyeing her knowingly under the brim of her hat.

"Oh, um…Nothing, nothing," Dolores waved her off with a smile and a blush.

__

(I don't want to try and explain that the oddest mental image of their team's resident tough guy in an apron just sprang into my head and got me giggling.)

Five raised one eyebrow, but before she could press the issue any further, the toaster dinged brightly and popped out her pastries. She quickly transferred them to a paper plate, careful not to burn her fingers on the hot apple filling that had seeped out of the flaky crust, then turned back to face Dolores.

"You going to get something to eat or what?" she asked. Tilting her head to one side, she added, "Or do you need help?"

Dolores found herself bristling at the comment for some reason. Perhaps she perceived – or thought she perceived – something in the stealth operative's query that hinted she wondered if one of the Delightful Children was even capable of taking care of herself, the same way that the Kids Next Door could handle themselves.

"I'll be fine," she replied a bit curtly. "I'll just be a bit, though…"

"Fine, then," Five shrugged. "Numbah Five'll just be in the other room if you need her help with anything…"

With that, she sauntered out in such a way that any trace of a limp was rendered invisible. Once she was gone, whatever pride had motivated Dolores' blunt response immediately fled, and she visibly deflated.

__

(What was I thinking?! Jinkens has always been the one who handled our meals back home!)  


The simple truth of the matter was, Dolores had never really given much thought to fixing anything for herself before. The household help prepared all of her meals: all she and the rest of her siblings needed to do for their repasts was show up on time. It was another point Father had drilled into them.

She eyed the various cabinets containing all sorts of odd cooking utensils and was overwhelmed. She briefly considered the thought of simply foregoing breakfast, but then discarded that notion. There was no telling what the day might bring, and if yesterday's activities with Kuki had been any indication, she would need all the energy she could get.

__

(Plus, perhaps my family will show up sometime later today to save me. I must be prepared to move quickly if such a thing occurs…)

Dolores frowned and started surveying the cabinets for something to get started with. She was determined to fend for herself until the rest of the Delightful Children retrieved her, as they surely would.

__

(Besides, if Hoagie can cook such an impressive platter for himself, how difficult a task could it be?)

#####

"So how did your roommate act last night?" Numbah Two asked between mouthfuls, looking at his teammate curiously across the table. "She didn't give you any trouble, did she?"

"No trouble at all," assured Five with a lazy wave of her hand. She took a bite out of one of her pastries, then looked thoughtful as she murmured, "Although…"

"Although what?"

"…Well, it was the strangest thing, but… This morning, Numbah Five found her tossing and turning and moaning and groaning like she was having some wicked nightmare."

"Really?" Two took a deep swig of his chocolate milk and absently wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand while wondering, "Did she say anything about it after she woke up? You know, mention what it was about?"

"She didn't say, but before I woke her up, she was screaming for 'Father' to stop."

"Stop? Stop what?"

"Numbah Five doesn't know," and the capped girl rubbed her chin thoughtfully, the motion disturbing the tiny flakes of crisp crust that had settled around her lips. "She was just wailing on and on about, 'No, Father, no!' and 'Please, Father, stop it!'"

She trailed off, considering for a while. Numbah Two turned back to his remaining pancakes, though he kept his ears tuned for the typically quiet girl's voice while he dug in. For a short period the only sound was fork tines gently scraping against a syrup-drenched plate.

That ended when Numbah Three skipped into the room, singing brightly in her native language.

"Itsumo, itsumo, itsu demo tsuuji atteru kara! Itsumo, itsumo, doko demo tonde ikeru wa!"

Numbah Five shook her head. She understood a little bit of Japanese, just enough to get the general gist of the song…though the upbeat manner in which Three was singing was clue enough to its meaning.

"Yo, Numbah Three!" she greeted her fellow female agent with a smile and wave.

"Good morning!" Three called back, waving back and prancing toward the kitchen.

"She's in a good mood this morning," Numbah Two observed dryly, looking up after the bubbly girl.

"Isn't she always?"

#####

The primary thing on Numbah Three's mind was grabbing a bowl and filling it to the brim with her favorite Rainbow Monkeys cereal. Just the thought of those brightly colored sugary simians and those hearts, stars and rainbow marshmallow bits made her taste buds tingle with anticipation.

When she entered the kitchen, however, her attention quickly focused on Dolores. The blonde girl was laboriously adding things into one of the smaller saucepans. Her curiosity piqued, Numbah Three peeked over the other girl's shoulder.

"What'cha making?" she asked.

"Breakfast," Dolores replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." There was a brief pause, then: "I didn't know you were supposed to cook that."

"Of course you're supposed to cook it! Haven't you ever seen how they will mix this with strawberries and blueberries before to add flavor?"

"Oh." A shorter pause: "I didn't know you cooked strawberries and blueberries."

"…It's a Delightful Child thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh." After a few seconds: "Is it supposed to be bubbling like that?"

"…Yes. Why don't you go talk with your friends for a while and let me finish this up."

"Okay! …But why can't I stay here with you?"

"…I have secret ingredients to add."

"Oh! Like what?"

"Well if I told you, Kuki dear, they wouldn't be secret ingredients, would they?"

"I guess not…"

"I'll be along shortly and join you. Go on ahead."

"Okay!"

Numbah Three retrieved her precious cereal and poured herself a nice heaping bowlful. Just before leaving the kitchen, however, she glanced back at Dolores, still toiling over her concoction. She didn't understand how anyone could find the mess she's glimpsed in that pot delectable, let alone stand that weird stench. And those tendrils of smoke that were beginning to rise from it made her eyes water when she stood too close.

But Dolores said it was a Delightful Child thing, so she shrugged it off and went to rejoin her friends. Her cereal looked all the more delicious by comparison, she knew that much!

#####

Numbah Four had arrived while Three was retrieving her breakfast. The short blonde had snatched a couple of untouched pancakes from Two's plate while the pilot wasn't paying attention and hurriedly devoured them. Numbah Five didn't bother to call him on it, for she was too busy musing over other matters.

Of course, she was brought back to the present when Numbah Three dropped her bowl with a loud clatter on the table and sat down beside her.

"Whatscha thinking 'bout, Numbah Five?"

"Oh, Numbah Five was just thinking about a little conversation she had with Dolores last night," she responded, looking over at the other female agent.

"Really?" Three leaned forward eagerly. "What did she say?"

"Oi! You actually talked to that bratty blonde?!" Numbah Four interrupted rudely, spitting out bits of pancake in his surprise.

"Why not?" Five shrugged and looked at the stubborn fighter distastefully. "She was staying in Numbah Five's room, after all. Why not talk to her?"

"Because she's one of them!" Four replied matter-of-factly.

The Australian slammed his hands down on the table to emphasize his point, making all the plates and glasses jump. His scathing tone made it perfectly clear to the others that he'd never even consider trying to hold any sort of discussion with one of the Delightful Children. He much preferred using his fists to get his messages across.

"Numbah Five just had a few questions she wanted to ask her, that's all," and Five shrugged nonchalantly again.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Before Five had a chance to reply, the strangest sound erupted from the kitchen behind them. The noise could only be described as a gigantic FOOM, and was accompanied by a flare of light that was visible through the open doorway. The four agents immediately sprang from their seats and scrambled into the kitchen to see what was happening.

It didn't take long for any of them to spot the problem: Dolores was standing in front of the stove staring at the thick black smoke that was issuing from the small pot sitting in front of her.

"Strange," she muttered under her breath, oblivious to the gawking Kids Next Door who had just entered. "I don't recall any of Jinkens' creations ever doing this before…"

She reached to switch off the stovetop, then squealed and jerked her arm back as several flames joined the acrid smoke billowing from out of the container, nearly catching her. Her frustration replaced by panic, she looked around frantically for some other way to get the blaze under control.

"Wow! I didn't know Delightful Children cooked like that!" Three commented brightly, admiring the pretty flames rising from the smoking pot.

"I-I don't think it's supposed to do that, Numbah Three!" Two observed, already hurrying forward to help out.

Numbah Five also acted quickly, grabbing Dolores' arm and yanking her out of the way while Two and Four got the fire under control. The Delightful Child looked torn between relief and embarrassment, and watched nervously as the boys beat the blaze.

"Aw, look what you did! You ruined her breakfast!" scolded Three, sounding genuinely upset. She'd kind of wanted to see how it would turn out, but now it was clearly wreaked.

"Somehow, I think it was already ruined before we got in here," Four shot back, glaring at Dolores and waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to ward off the smell. "What the heck was she trying to make, anyway?"

"Um, well…" Two looked carefully into the pot, chewing on the inside of his lip as he struggled to determine what the smoldering remains of its contents had once been. "I'd say it looks like cereal a-la flambé…"

"You were cooking cereal?!" shrilled Four incredulously.

"What, you mean you're not supposed to?" Dolores blurted, looking honestly surprised at this revelation.

Two, Four and Five stared at the pale girl for a long, awkward moment. The fighter's mouth was working silently as he struggled to come up with the most scathing retort possible, only to find he couldn't settle on one. Dolores looked back at them, then down at the ground, allowing her hair to cover her face again. They didn't have to say anything: she could tell just by looking at their dumbstruck faces that she'd managed to screw up again.

"Hey, do you think my Rainbow Monkeys cereal would taste even better if I started heating it up first?" Three wondered blithely.

"Only if you like the taste of charcoal," Four answered.

"Oh boy," Five shook her head. "It's a good thing Numbah One's not awake yet, that's for sure…"


	7. Nasty WakeUp Call

__

Still don't have the rights to Kids Next Door.  


Numbah One had actually been up and about for quite some time, though the leader of the Kids Next Door had yet to retrieve some nourishment from the kitchen. He knew his mother would be peeved if she knew he was ignoring breakfast; she loved reminding him that it was "the most important meal of the day, especially for growing young men, blah, blah, blah, yak yak…"

__

(Of course, the Kids Next Door certainly don't have to follow the orders of any adults, that's the whole point!)

A fine argument, but his stomach would be inclined to disagree. He silenced its grumbling demands by assuring it he'd grab something later. Right now, there were more important matters to attend to.

Calling up a schematic grid showing the Treehouse's defensive systems, he replayed the data from the previous night. The resulting display looked complex at first, but Numbah One was able to interpret the readout easily. This was due in part to his technical expertise, in part to his rigid training as commander for this unit, and in part to the fact that he had mostly designed the system in the first place.

The schematic currently being displayed enabled him to see everything that had happened the previous night when it came to anybody breaching the Treehouse's boundaries. While clearly nothing had occurred that the system considered major enough to sound the alarm – it dispatched all low-level disturbances of its own accord, without anyone having to stay at its helm – it was always important to know if anything had taken place while everyone in the base slumbered.

This was especially true now that they had a hostage stashed inside. Numbah One was actually surprised that the remaining members of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane hadn't launched an assault yet.

After all, the creepy clan was so close that they had to have realized that one of their number was absent. While there was no way he could know for certain whether or not their rivals were aware that their missing member had been taken into custody, the fact remained that she had disappeared immediately after their last skirmish. Certainly they weren't stupid enough to write that off to coincidence…

Even if they thought their sibling lost in the battle, One was certain they would make a retaliatory strike against the Kids Next Door. Dolores had been lost because they were fighting; that was all the excuse they needed to launch a vengeful assault.

Clearly, the fact that nobody had been awakened by alarms blaring or wood splintering meant that they hadn't attacked head on that night. That didn't mean, however, that they hadn't sent some other form of assault. They could easily hire some new minion to try a stealth attack, a spy or scout of some sort…

Numbah One wasn't taking any chances. There wasn't any room for oversights now, and all possibilities had to be explored.

As he ran through the schematic, however, he failed to find any signs that anything of interest had happened on the base's grounds that night. The largest disturbance he discovered was that a squirrel had scurried over the premises from 11:46 P.M. to 12:03 A.M. before scampering off.

Leaning back in his chair, One steepled his fingers together and sighed. Absolutely nothing noteworthy had happened during the previous evening. There had been no villainy afoot, no hired goon storming the grounds.

__

(So why don't I feel any calmer?)

Considering it for a few minutes, Numbah One finally arrived to the conclusion that Dolores' blunt announcement of his phobia the previous afternoon was still gnawing at him. There was no reason that she, an enemy agent, should have been privy to such private information! Not even his own teammates knew about his problem with bugs… or at least, he'd never outright announced it to them.

But Dolores had. She'd just mentioned it out of the blue, offering no hint of the fact she was going to say it – or even that she knew.

__

(What else do the Delightful Children from Down the Lane know about us? And how are they finding out in the first place?) 

It wasn't the most pleasant issue, particularly in light of other recent developments on that front… the capture of Dolores not exactly being the least of those.

He still wasn't certain what to do with the girl. Keeping her around could prove to be more trouble than it was worth, especially if the rest of her frightful family started sniffing around the Treehouse… But, by the same token, sending her away to another Kids Next Door outpost was even worse.

__

(Besides, the Delightful Children are our enemy. I'd rather keep this within our perimeters for as long as necessary…)

His stomach grumbled softly, and Numbah One obligingly started wrapping things up, closing out the displays showing how peaceful things had been outside the base. Just as the last grid blinked out of existence, however, a previously dim bulb started flashing red. The leader immediately spun in his seat and slid over to the counter.

"What is it now?" he muttered under his breath, punching in the familiar command to bring up whatever was causing the signal.

His shades reflected the flashing red light, and the rest of his solemn face was bathed with the warning crimson glow as his sharp blue eyes scanned through the information displayed. His mouth set into a firm, hard line. After a brief pause, he switched on the intercom that carried through the entire Treehouse.

"Kids Next Door, report to the briefing room," he commanded.

#####

Five pairs of eyes turned upwards as the announcement echoed through the Treehouse. Numbah Five was the first to stand up, pushing back her seat.

"You heard the boss," she told her teammates, signaling them to get moving.

"Wonder what's going on?" Two commented, standing up and gathering his empty dishes.

"C'mon, let's hurry, hurry, hurry!" singsonged Three while skipping toward the door.

Dolores dropped her gaze back to her own bowl awkwardly. After it had become clear she was incapable of making her own breakfast, Numbah Five had been kind enough to show her the proper way to get a bowl of cereal. Though she'd already managed to finish it, her hunger proving to be more than she'd expected, this wasn't her real problem.

__

(Just what am I supposed to do now?)

It didn't seem like a good idea to follow them; even without factoring in that they were on separate sides, it was terribly rude to intrude on one of their meetings. But surely they wouldn't want to leave her unattended, even with the W.A.T.C.H. on her wrist…

Her dilemma was solved when Numbah Four reached over and roughly grabbed her arm.

"C'mon," he sneered when she looked up at him in surprise. "Move it. I ain't trusting you in here all by yerself…"

With no other choice, Dolores followed the shorter blonde to the briefing room. Numbahs Two, Three and Five were already present, and had taken their seats on the half-circle couch in the very center of the wide chamber. Four flopped down beside Three, leaving the Delightful Child to find a seat at the very edge of the group.

Numbah One soon arrived as well. The leader of the Kids Next Door quickly crossed the room to take his place behind the raised podium. Upon reaching it, he turned to face those gathered before him. He glanced at Dolores and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about her presence.

"Fellow Kids Next Door, a situation has developed that requires our immediate attention," he announced.

"Shall I excuse myself while you conduct your meeting?" Dolores asked, standing.

"No, you…stay here," One motioned for her to take her seat again. "This concerns you as well."

"…Oh."

Dolores awkwardly sat back down, a sense of dread swelling in the pit of her stomach as she looked around at the five agents. She wasn't comfortable listening to her captors discuss plans, particularly when there was a chance they involved what they were planning about her.

Numbah Four caught her eye; the blond fighter shot her a deadly glare and cracked his knuckles into the palm of his hand. Dolores gulped and quickly looked back at Numbah One. The leader of the Kids Next Door stood behind his podium and folded his arms behind his back.

"As you undoubtedly recall, during our last encounter with the Delightful Children from Down the Lane, they were unleashing their mechanical mockeries of normal playground equipment upon unsuspecting kids."

__

(You forgot to mention that those unsuspecting kids were yourselves, of course.) Dolores shook her head, but kept quiet, leaving her observations to herself. _(You were our only real targets, after all.)_

"Yeah, we remember," Four commented, crossing his arms impatiently. "So what? We beat them up and even got a hostage out of the deal!"

"That may be, Numbah Four, but, unfortunately…" Shaking his head, Numbah One said, "Well, see for yourselves."

He flipped a switch, causing a wide screen to pop up behind him. All five agents turned to watch, and Dolores looked as well, the dreadful feelings in her stomach worsening.

The scene displayed was at a park several blocks away. Several children were running about, playing in the sandbox, on the monkey bars, on the slide. A couple of boys were arguing at the swingset; one of the kids was stubbornly clinging to his seat while another yelled at him.

"No fair, Billy, it's my turn!"

"Who says? You?" Billy asked, his sarcastic tone making it clear he didn't care what the other claimed.

"Stop hogging the swings! Let me on!"

"Make me!"

They glared at each other, but before they could start trading blows, the swingset shuddered. Billy gave a high-pitched shriek as his seat suddenly pitched, and his opponent backed away, staring at the swings as it uprooted itself one post at a time.

"O-on second thought, you can stay on," he decided, then turned tail and fled, screaming.

Soon, more screams of terror were added to the cacophony as more pieces of equipment lurched to life. The sandbox erupted in a whirlpool of shifting sand, its occupants clawing at the edges and desperately trying to pull themselves out. The monkey bars reared back while climbers launched off or hung on tightly. The slide tipped back until everyone tumbled off into a heap.

As the chaos continued, kids scrambling to get away from the possessed playground, the view swung around to show four children that weren't fleeing the scene. Instead, they simply watched, glassy blue eyes reflecting an emotional detachment from the disorder. The only reaction they had was a small, cruel smile that touched each of their lips equally, like distorted mirror images of each other.

Dolores stared at the screen, her own blue eyes filled with a violent mixture of horror and astonishment. She had gone rigid in her seat, clenching the edge of her skirt in both tightening fists.

The Delightful Children from Down the Lane were short one member, but it appeared that it didn't matter. They had shifted their stances so that there wasn't even a gap between them to give away that one was absent. If somebody weren't aware that there were supposed to be five in their little group, they never would have noticed that there were only four present.

They certainly didn't appear to be affected by it. As they watched the rest of the playground descend into disorder, all four began to chuckle quietly, a harsh, near monotone chorus that struck a sharp contrast with the disorder raging around them.

Solemnly, Numbah One turned away from the display to gauge the reactions of his teammates. Numbah Three was covering her mouth with her hidden hands, chestnut eyes wide and filled with shock and fear. Beside her, Four clenched his fists and ground his teeth together, trembling with poorly contained fury. Two swallowed hard, staring at the screen nervously. Five adjusted her cap, pulling the rim over her eyes to conceal her frustrated expression.

Dolores looked fit to pass out. The fragile girl swayed back and forth in her seat, wringing handfuls of her skirt so tightly it was surprising the fabric wasn't ripping. Her expression was one of blank shock, and she stared at the screen in complete disbelief.

Numbah One took particular notice of this. When he'd first viewed the transmission, the commander had briefly wondered if perhaps this was part of one of their rivals' Delightful schemes: that Dolores had intentionally fallen into their hands to distract the Kids Next Door from detecting this latest plot.

But the shocked expression on the girl's face seemed too real to be acting. He hadn't considered the possibility for very long, anyway: the Delightful Children were generally too detached, too emotionless to be any good at acting.

__

(Not that she looks that emotionless right now…)

Shaking his head, Numbah One turned his focus back to the matter at hand.

"As you can clearly see, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane haven't exactly been hindered by the loss of one of their number," he stated, pacing in front of the display. "We can't ignore this blatant assault."

"But why are they attacking like that?" Numbah Two piped up. The pilot scratched his head as he went on, "I mean, it doesn't seem like a very 'Delightful' thing to do, if you ask me…"

"Two's right," Five nodded solemnly. "Numbah Five don't like this one bit. This isn't their normal style…"

"Who cares?!" Four slammed his fists down on the table and stood up violently. "All we need to know 's that they're hurting kids like us! Who cares what the reason is?!"

"Numbah Four has a point," One nodded, "and so do you, Numbahs Two and Five. Personally, the only reason that I can figure for this assault is that they're attempting to give playgrounds a reputation for being unsafe. Enough incidents like this, and safety-minded adults are likely to stop letting their kids play in such places altogether."

Numbah Two nodded slowly, reluctantly accepting his leader's reasoning. The mechanic still had a doubtful look on his face, however, as did the stealth operative sitting next to him. Both looked curiously at the pale girl sitting on the fringe of the group, like they expected some sort of insight from her on what her siblings might be thinking.

But Dolores could offer them no explanation. She didn't even have one for herself yet. Instead, the Delightful Child stared blankly at the screen even as the transmission burst into static.

"So let's go get 'em!" Four pounded a fist into his palm.

"Of course." Numbah One nodded curtly, then looked at the pilot and asked, "Has the S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. been repaired?"

"Yes, sir! She's primed and ready to go!"

"Good. Numbahs Two, Three and Four, you'll accompany me to the site at once." The remaining agent shot him a sharp look, and One continued, "Numbah Five, you'll hold down the fort here. For obvious reasons, we can't take our prisoner along with us, and it's too risky to leave her unattended."

"Right," nodded Five.

Nobody bothered to point out the other obvious reason for leaving her behind: her injury from the previous day's conflict. There was no reason to risk aggravating it, and having her keep an eye on Dolores provided the perfect excuse to not bring her to what was likely to become another battleground.

"Fine then. Kids Next Door, battle stations!"

The four agents scrambled from the briefing room, leaving Numbah Five alone with Dolores. The capped girl stood and looked over at the petite girl, who still had yet to move from her seat. Five shook her head at the sight of the shell-shocked lass, unable to keep from feeling a little pity for her despite the fact that the rest of her team was off to face her psychotic siblings.

Crossing the room, Numbah Five ensured that the defense system was up and running. Numbah One had a bad habit of accidentally turning it off at the worst possible times. Thankfully, this time it was fully functional.

"W…why…?"

The stealth operative turned around and saw that Dolores had finally stirred. The pale lass was staring at the agent, trembling like a leaf, sky blue eyes lost and frightened.

"Why is this happening?" she choked out in a broken whisper. "I don't understand…"

Numbah Five shook her head, unable to offer any answer. The situation had caught the normally cool and prepared girl off guard as well, and all she understood was that she didn't like it. She didn't like this at all…


	8. Delightfully Wicked

__

I still don't have the rights to the Kids Next Door. Is it just me, or is this disclaimer thing getting repetitive?

The S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. landed a sizable distance away from the target zone. This was part of Numbah One's plan: he remembered how the skycraft had been scuttled during their previous encounter. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that hideous incident; scrambling to eject while bars of iron speared through the floundering ship had not been pleasant.

Numbah Four was first out of the aircraft, gripping his B.A.T.T.A.R. with both hands. The B.A.T.T.A.R. – Big And Tough Titanium Assault Rod – was a new weapon specifically designed for the pugilist. It resembled a baseball bat, but had a few special tricks built into its frame. Plus, it was easy to heft and swing about, which was what Four was currently doing, sharp green eyes suspiciously scanning for any sign of his hated enemy.

Actually, the only thing that had changed about the weapon from the time Four had conceived it to its creation was a miniscule change to its name. Nothing major, simply a tiny tweak to what one of the letters stood for. Numbah Four hadn't exactly been thrilled about that little change, but One insisted.

The leader of the team crossed the threshold next, trusty S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. at the ready. Though he didn't jump out and aim his weapon left and right as the Australian fighter was, his body was firm and tense, preparing for the expected showdown. Stepping onto the waving green grass, Numbah One paused and adjusted his sunglasses, the dark lenses catching and reflecting the sunlight, then turned and nodded at the two agents behind him.

Two and Three nodded back, then the latter skipped down the platform while the former took one last furtive glance around. Numbah Three was weaponless, and Numbah Two was wearing a backpack stuffed with various odds and ends that might or might not help during the coming confrontation. Yet the pilot looked considerably more nervous than the cheery raven-haired girl.

Numbah One attributed Two's hesitation to his confusion over the latest actions of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane. Normally, the mechanic would gloss over any trepidation he felt with a bad pun or some cheesy quips, acting like the cool collected hero so popular in all forms of media and entertainment. This time, however, he was too unnerved to even think of one yet.

The British boy couldn't blame him. Blatantly setting their latest minions-of-the-week on a playground just wasn't the usual method of their long-time rivals. Most of their confrontations were between Kids Next Door and Delightful Children alone, without dragging in innocent bystanders for the ride. Though One had been quick to offer justification back in the Treehouse, in all honesty, he wasn't quite sure what was going through the collective cognizance of their enemy.

__

(Could it have something to do with Dolores' absence?)

There was little time to ponder such matters, however. That could come later. Right now, Numbah One focused on figuring out a way to deal with the situation he and his teammates were heading toward.

"Be on the lookout for any signs of our enemy or their latest pets," he warned unnecessarily, heading forward.

Four took point, weapon hefted and ready to start dealing dents to the first piece of possessed playground equipment he came across. One fell in behind him, closely followed by Three and Two, with the backpack-toting pilot bringing up the rear.

Soon the quartet stepped onto enemy soil: the park that the transmission had originated from. They crossed into a field that was ominously empty, that should have been filled with kids laughing and scrambling around, from slide to swings to sandbox and back again.

Instead, there was no sign of kids or equipment. The only clue that anything should have been here were the holes and barren patches of earth where previously such things had been anchored. The agents walked to the center of the field, searching in vain for any clue to where everything had disappeared.

"I don't like this, guys," Numbah Two whispered, goggle-covered eyes darting from side to side.

"Don't be such a baby, Two," chided Four. Prodding the soil with the end of his B.A.T.T.A.R., he scanned the trees lining the abandoned playground and muttered, "Man! Don't tell me we missed those Delightful Dorks this time!"

"I don't think so." One dropped to his knees to examine a hole in the ground where once one of the support poles for the swings had been anchored. "Something about this doesn't sit right. I get the feeling this could be…"

A deep rumbling was the only forewarning the four had before the ground started shaking. Through the hole in the ground, Numbah One caught a glimpse of a flash of light. His eyes widened into saucers behind his concealing sunglasses.

"A TRAP!" he finished, throwing himself backwards.

He barely cleared the area before the ground split where he had been standing, revealing gleaming metal bars. The buried behemoth righted itself, shaking off dirt. Was the roar that ripped through the air as it emerged coming from unseen speakers, the sound of the earth being disrupted by its jerking upward, or merely a figment of his imagination?

There was no time to ponder the question, only react.

"Kids Next Door, scatter!" he ordered.

It wasn't exactly needed, for the other three were already scrambling to avoid being knocked over by one of the pieces of possessed playthings that were uprooting all over the deceptively empty field. Numbah One quickly scanned the area, making a mental tally of where all of his teammates and the menacing mockeries were.

Three nimbly sidestepped an emerging tetherball pole, the gleeful expression on her face seeming odd considering how nearly she had been caught by the spear shooting into the air centimeters in front of her. She clapped her sleeved hands and laughed.

"Yay, I remember this!" she squealed. She watched as steel plates enveloped the ball dangling from the rope, which itself was metamorphosing into a chain. The overgrown mace then arced toward her head, but she ducked out of the way, then started dancing around it, trilling "Wheee!"

At the same time, Numbah Two discovered that the patch of land he'd been standing on was where the sandbox was located. The grass shifted and sank, the soil rippling as his feet began to vanish into the shifting dirt. With a startled cry he yanked loose, literally jumping out of one of his shoes and barely clearing the edge of the pool before thick metal planks shot out of the ground. Landing hard on his left, now sock-clad foot and falling to his right knee, the mechanic turned to see his footwear sink into the quagmire.

"Man, no wonder I was getting a sinking feeling," he commented with a nervous laugh.

He got back up, balancing on his still shoe-covered right foot. Before he could completely recover from his close call, however, Two got a very unpleasant surprise: the rising sides of the sandbox suddenly tipped outward, spilling its contents and spreading sand everywhere. The warm substance soon engulfed his feet up to his ankles, and with a lurch began pulling him back toward its container.

"Whoaaa! Not good, not good!" 

While the pudgy pilot struggled against the shifting sands, Numbah Four rolled away from a swinging bar. Hitting the ground with both feet, the short brawler looked up at his opponent. This metal slide was a lot larger than the one he had battled yesterday, and the handrails on its side had detached and transformed into twin javelins. The mechanical monstrosity raised its spears high into the air, slithering toward the boy using its long, thin metal body like a snake.

"So you're Slide 2.0, eh?" the Australian commented through gritted teeth. "Too bad you're no match for me, no matter what those Delightful Dork's do 'a ya!"

Both poles lanced toward the blond, who dodged to the right. He switched his grip on the B.A.T.T.A.R. to one hand, the left flying out to brace against the grass as he finished his roll and bounced upright. Just as he was going to charge his towering foe, however, one of the spears snared the loose hood of his jacket, pinning it to the ground. Four gagged as his momentum was suddenly arrested by the obstacle and he fell back to the grass.

"Numbah Four!" One shouted, seeing the tough agent's peril.

A heavy plank mounted on chains sailed toward the distracted leader's head, but just as it was about to strike he activated his jet boots and veered to the left. Numbah One didn't even get to catch his breath before another swung forward, forcing him to fly out of harm's way – and farther away from the pinned Four.

"Great, just great," he muttered, pushing his shades back up with one finger before spinning to face another swing and taking aim with the S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R.

Meanwhile, Numbah Two was rapidly running out of luck… not to mention footwear. His other shoe and both socks had already disappeared into the clutching gritty substance, leaving the pilot unable to yank his bare feet out of the sand that had already engulfed him ankle-deep. He dug desperately through his pack, searching for anything that might save him, trying to ignore how the shifting substance was slowly dragging him back toward the gaping maw of the waiting sandbox. He didn't know what would happen if it succeeded in pulling him into its perimeters, and frankly didn't want to find out…

Junk rained from the backpack as he shoveled through it. Nuts, bolts, screws, empty candy bar wrappers, small metal scraps he'd salvaged from the wreckage of various things he'd dismantled… Finally his fingers closed around a small spherical object about the size of a baseball. Numbah Two grinned.

"Bingo." Whirling around, the pilot brought his arm back and shouted, "Fire in the sandhole!" then lobbed the ball into the center of the sandbox.

Then he waited. Waited. Waited. The sand still slowly dragged him toward its container, but other than that, absolutely nothing happened.

"Huh?"

Suddenly Two slapped his helmeted forehead in exasperation.

"Now I remember! That one was a dud I was going to look over to see what… went… wrong…"

The sand beneath him rippled; this point immersed him up to his knees. The mechanic frantically rummaged through his knapsack again, but the only promising thing he could find was a large wrench he normally used to tune up the larger bolts holding some of their biggest machines together. Gripping it with both hands, he looked around in vain for something he could use it against that might stop the flowing sands.

Nothing appeared. He was almost at the edge of the sandbox now. Panicking, Numbah Two looked frantically for his friends, but all of them were already busy. Three was still bouncing around her tetherball dance partner; One was engaged in a furious midair struggle with the high-flying swings; and Four was still pinned to the ground parrying his snake-like slide foe's jabs with the B.A.T.T.A.R.

Numbah Two sagged, squeezing his eyes shut. He was on the very edge of hysteria, much as he was at the edge of the sandbox. There had to be a way out of this, but he couldn't think…!

__

(I wish Numbah Five was here. She'd be able to get out of this mess no problem!)

But the cunning female agent was back at the Treehouse, far removed from the hectic battlefield. Even if she'd known how badly her teammates were faring, there was no way she could help them…

His buried feet brushed against the cold metal planks that surrounded the main sandbox. Numbah Two's eyes opened wide as a sudden burst of inspiration struck. Bracing himself against the edge as best he could, the mechanic twisted around to face where one of his friends was fighting.

"Hey! Numbah Four! B.A.T.T.A.R. up!"

The squirming Australian shot a quick glance over in the shouting mechanic's direction even as he parried another jabbing strike from the creature towering over him. His dark green eyes narrowed angrily.

"I'm a little busy 'ere, Two!" he shouted.

"Look," shot back an equally irritated mechanic, "The bases are gonna be loaded if you don't strike 'em out. Hurry up!"

"Alright, alright already!"

Raising his B.A.T.T.A.R. to block the slide's free spear, Numbah Four grimaced with effort as he swung it around so that the curved top of the steel club faced in Two and the sandbox's general direction. He shifted his iron grip on its handle down slightly, then jammed his thumb down on a hidden button on the underside of the metallic shaft.

The top of the rod suddenly popped open, and with a burst of red light a glowing orange sphere shot out. Four mashed the button two more times, sending two more fiery balls streaking toward the trapped Numbah Two.

The pilot grinned again. Bracing himself against the edge of the sandbox, Numbah Two swung his wrench as hard as he could, knocking all three fly balls into roughly the center of the pit.

"Ball One!" he shouted, watching the first fall and sink into the shifting substance. "Ball Two! Ball Three!"

Willing his remaining strength into his aching legs, the mechanic then pushed away from the metal plank, fighting his way backwards through the grasping grit. It continued to shove him toward the sandy pit, but before it could force him inside, there was a muffled explosion followed by a geyser of sand erupting from where the first ball had vanished. Two more such fountains soon shot into the air, and Numbah Two was sent flying free by the force of the muted blasts. The pilot hit the grass hard, but still grinned wildly, sitting upright and jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

"You're out!" he announced with a huge smile.

The resulting geysers sprayed sand everywhere, showering over the playground. Four, however, barely noticed this, instead focusing on bringing the top of the B.A.T.T.A.R. around to face the slide still towering over him.

"Time to strike you out," he snarled, pressing the button.

Several balls shot out and peppered the slide, until finally it fell to the side. The once smooth metal was now dotted with dents of various sizes, and it floundered briefly before falling still. Numbah Four finally freed his pinned hood and stood triumphantly over his fallen foe, a cocky sneer on his half-visible face.

"Who's next?" he asked, looking around for another opponent to beat to the ground.

Not far away, Numbah One was taking a page from Three's book of tricks for once. Just as she was getting the tetherball to tangle itself round its supporting pole, so he used his rocket boots to maneuver the swings into each other until their chains caught. His efforts paid off when the planks collided and fell limp, dangling uselessly from their now hopelessly snarled chains.

"That takes care of those things," he observed, scanning the scene from the air. "Now, where're those so-called Delightful Children…?"

"Right behind you, Nigel," came the monotone reply.

"What?!"

Numbah One twisted around in time to see the creepy camaraderie emerge from the trees surrounding the playground. The remaining four Delightful Children were riding inside a rather oddly constructed transportation device: it resembled a small hexagonal porch, the kind normally seen outside high-class villas. However, even as One stared, the faux wood siding peeled away, replaced by thick metal plates. A bubble of glass surrounded the quartet inside, shielding them from any possible assaults their rivals might launch.

Despite this, Numbah One aimed his S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. at the flying contraption. 

"What is the meaning of all this?" he demanded in his best 'don't-mess-with-me' voice. "Why attack innocent kids just trying to play in the park? It hardly seems the 'delightful' thing to do."

"Why, Nigel," mocked the monotone chorus, "we're absolutely shocked that you haven't guessed by now. Surely you must have some inkling as to why we bothered setting all of this up…"

"You…" he started slowly, eyebrows raising as he realized their phasing.

__

(Setting all of this up…)

"Set up?!"

"Yes, Nigel," and the detached voices were tinged with smug glee, "Set up."

Down below, Numbah Three was prancing circles around the hopelessly tangled up tetherball pole. The massive makeshift mace began to quiver violently, and the raven-haired girl stopped dancing and looked at it curiously.

"Hey, why are you… Kyaaa!"

She squealed in surprise as the trembling pole shot out of the ground like a rocket, the force of its taking off blowing her off her feet. Three landed hard on the grass, and craned her head back to watch the shaft lance through the air.

"Sugoi…" she murmured. Then, noticing something alarming, she cried, "Ah, look out, Numbah…"

Her warning was too little, too late. The tetherball post crashed into Numbah One at full speed, knocking him off balance and tearing the S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. out of his hand. For a single, suspended moment, the commander spun through the air out of control, his jet boots sputtering. The chain had scraped over his right side, not only knocking his weapon away, but ripping through the side of one of his rocket boots.

With a final sputter, the damaged jet boot ceased functioning. Numbah One plummeted through the sky, too dazed to even try and control his landing. All his friends could do was stare in horror as he fell. Right into the sandbox.

"Num-Numbah One?!" stammered Two, the closest to his leader's unfortunate landing spot.

Again the earth rumbling, and this tremor was strong enough to knock the trio of remaining agents flat on their backs. The sandbox rose from the ground, its sides extending. With a start, Numbah Two realized that there had been far more of the contraption buried than he had imagined.

"Hey, that's a…!"

He gasped: the entire sandbox had emerged, and shifting soil coursed down its sides to reveal its true shape. What the Kids Next Door had thought was simply a quicksand trap now stood on four spindly legs, towering over them. On top of these metallic spiderlegs was mounted a small, square cage, lying inside of which was their unconscious leader. From their angle so far beneath the monstrosity, the trio could see a limp arm dangling out from between the iron bars.

"Numbah One!" Three screamed.

The only response to her cry was the mocking laughter of the Delightful Children. The frightful foursome brought their craft to a hover over the cage. Two of the sandbox/cage's legs, the upper right and lower left, raised from the ground and attached to the bottom of the aerial transport.

"No!" howled Four, charging and swinging his weapon vainly at the closest leg even as it folded out of reach.

Two and Three ran up behind the toughest agent, and the trio stared up at the contraption hovering overhead, too far away to be touched by any of their weapons. The transport tilted slightly forward, enabling them to just barely glimpse the quartet of Delightful Children smirking smugly down at them.

"Now we're even, Kids Next Door," they taunted, their mocking words broadcast down to the three so far below by their speakers.

With that, the ship turned and flew slowly away, carrying its precious cargo beneath it.

"Numbah One!" shrieked Three again, cupping her sleeved hands around her mouth. He long ebony hair flapped behind her, caught in the breeze kicked up by the departing craft. "Numbah One! NUMBAH ONE!"

"Don't ya dare run, ya yellow-bellied COWARDS!" roared Four. Waving his B.A.T.T.A.R. uselessly in the air, he bellowed, "Stay and FIGHT! FIGHT, why don'cha?!"

"Numbah One…" whispered Two, staring into the sky in shock.

__

(I've got to do something! The S.K.Y.C.L.A.W.…)

But his piloting instincts knew better. Even if he sprinted back to the skycraft at full speed and didn't wait for his remaining friends, there was no way they'd hope to catch up in time. Already the Delightful Children's transport had crested the trees and had vanished from sight. Chasing after them half-cocked and with no plan whatsoever wasn't going to help Numbah One.

That didn't mean that it didn't have appeal. Numbah Two didn't want to imagine what sort of things their long-time rivals might have planned for their leader.

"There's no time to waste," he said, turning to face his remaining teammates.

"Too right!" Four snarled, swinging around the B.A.T.T.A.R. in front of him.

"Numbah One…" Three whispered mournfully, staring off where the cage had disappeared from sight with tear-brimmed mahogany eyes.

"Let's go back to base and regroup," the mechanic said, pointing awkwardly toward their waiting aircraft. "Maybe Numbah Five'll come up with something."

"Yeah." Four ground the end of his club into the ground and cast one final hateful glance back where the Delightful Dorks had disappeared. "Or maybe Dolores 'ill tell us something useful fer once…"


	9. Down By One

__

I don't have the rights to Kids Next Door. Oh, for those who were wondering, no, as far as I know none of the Delightful Children have been given official names. If they ever do get names, somehow I doubt the chances of 'Dolores' actually being correct are very high. I just thought it sounded like a 'delightful name'… (That and its meaning seems fairly appropriate.)

The worst part of holding down the fort was waiting for her friends to return.

Numbah Five drummed her fingers absently against the counter. The typically calm and collected operative was concerned about the rest of her team. The last time she'd heard from them was when Numbah One called to inform her that they were almost to their destination, and that they would be landing a safe distance away to avoid the S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. getting wrecked again.

She wasn't one to worry needlessly. It was just that Five had gotten a bad feeling about the situation from the moment the signal first arrived. The intuitive girl usually turned out to be right; her hunches rarely went unjustified. If she got the impression that something was going to happen, then something would happen – usually something that complicated matters for the Kids Next Door.

There wasn't much she could do now, though, except wait for the others to make it back. At the very least, they should _call_ or something…

Numbah Five looked over at the only other occupant of the Treehouse. After her teammates departed to confront the four rampaging Delightful Children, the fifth member of that creepy clan had withdrawn to a corner of the room, where she'd spent the wait staring into space. As the capped girl watched, Dolores shifted her weight, clasping her hands a little tighter, though already they were white-knuckled from gripping each other so fiercely.

Five shook her head slowly. She couldn't believe that this trembling slip of a girl was related to the quartet of eerily similar children. It wasn't simply that she wasn't wearing the silly sailor suit styled school uniform that those brethren always wore. It had more to do with her eyes than anything else. Numbah Five simply couldn't equate the other girl's haunted sky blue eyes with the emotionless glassy eyes that all the Delightful Children shared.

Dolores then looked over at her. When she noticed that the stealth operative was watching her, the petite lass hesitated. She stared down at the floorboards for a while, slowly raising her gaze to meet the other's deep brown eyes.

Numbah Five did nothing except wait, sensing that the pale child was having some sort of internal struggle. Knowing better than to pry, she waited patiently for the other girl to start the conversation.

"…Um…"

That, however, was all Dolores got out before the console Five was sitting at beeped. The Delightful Child immediately fell silent again and looked at the screen, and Five swiveled in her seat to see what was happening.

The S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. had returned, and was in the process of landing. Numbah Five adjusted the brim of her cap again, pressing her lips together in a thin frown.

__

(Something ain't right here… Why didn't they call and say they'd beaten those Delightful Children from Down the Lane or anything?)

Hearing a soft sigh, Numbah Five glanced swiftly at the other occupant of the room. To her surprise, the pale blonde looked vaguely relieved at the notification that the rest of the Kids Next Door had arrived. However, before Five had a chance to fully process the thoughts that flash of relief triggered, the door swung open.

Both girls turned around and saw Numbah Four walk into the large chamber. Immediately the capped girl's sense of unease increased: the Australian didn't exactly look too thrilled. Instead of striding in with his head held high and bragging loudly about how he'd kicked butt, the blond boy was glaring at the floor, bangs covering most of his face. His B.A.T.T.A.R. dragged along the floor instead of resting over his shoulder the way he normally carried it.

Unfortunately, Dolores wasn't nearly as attuned to such things as the dark-haired agent. Though she saw the same signs, she misinterpreted their meaning.

"Numbah Four? …Are you injured?" she asked, standing and taking a hesitant step forward.

Five noticed the unexpected note of compassion in the lass's voice. Four didn't. The fighter raised his head and glared at Dolores, dark green eyes flinty.

"It's your fault…"

Suddenly, with a wordless scream of rage, he lunged at the startled girl. Dolores didn't even have time to blink before the shorter boy slammed into her. Numbah Five sprang from her seat, but wasn't able to do anything more before Four brought his fist back and punched the fragile child in the face.

"It's all your fault!" bellowed the furious Four, driving his fist home.

Dolores cried out and collapsed. Both hands flew to cover her cheek, and her blue eyes filled with pained tears as she stared up at the fighter. An enraged snarl contorted the visible part of his face, making it a terrible thing to gaze upon, yet Dolores was unable to look away.

"It's your fault," he snarled. "This wouldn't have happened if you Delightful Dorks weren't so STUPID--!"

He swung back his arm again, but his second strike was arrested when Numbah Five grabbed his wrist.

"Hey there, calm down!" she ordered. "Numbah Five doesn't know what's going on, but you shouldn't just start throwing punches…"

"You don't understand!" roared Four, glaring furiously at his teammate. "Her stupid family just kidnapped Numbah One!"

Numbah Five's eyes widened with shock under the brim of her cap, both at the enraged boy's words and the startled gasp she heard from Dolores at his explanation. Figuring he'd made his point, Four tried to yank his arm free, and glared at the stealth operative when she held firm.

"What're ya doing? Lemme go!" he demanded.

"Look, Numbah Five knows you're mad, but you don't hafta take it out on her, you know."

Four stared at her, his facial expression screaming 'you've GOT to be kidding me'. Dolores had a similarly dumbfounded look on her face, and she stared at Numbah Five, still covering her injured cheek with both hands.

That was when Numbah Three burst into the room. The normally cheerful girl was in a frightful tizzy, and her long black hair flared behind her while she raced over to her fellow female operative.

"Numbah Five, Numbah Five, it's terrible! The Delightful Children from Down the Lane kidnapped Numbah One! We tried to stop them, we really did, but we couldn't reach him at all! And now we don't know where he is, and he's in big trouble, and we've gotta save him, and, and…"

Her chest heaved as she began to sob, expressive cinnamon eyes brimming with tears. Numbah Five tried to soothe her as best she could, but didn't let go of Four's arm, knowing he'd try to knock Dolores' block off again.

"We hafta do something!" insisted Three, waving her arms in the air.

"I know, Numbah Three," Two agreed, entering the room.

The pilot was carrying his shoes, wearing only his sand-covered socks. Turning his footwear over, he shook all the sand he could out even while looking nervously at the rest of the Kids Next Door.

"What exactly happened back there?" Numbah Five asked, looking to the mechanic for answers.

"Well, basically, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane set a trap for us," he reported, grimacing. "They caught Numbah One off guard by distracting him so that he didn't notice that something was coming in behind him 'till it was too late. He fell into this sandbox filled with something like quicksand, only it turned out to be a cage in disguise. We tried to get him out, but they took him out of reach and took off. The S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. was too far away, so we couldn't get to it in time to track him."

"Hmm…" Numbah Five rested her chin in one hand and frowned thoughtfully. "Now, how are we gonna go get him back…?"

"It'll be easy, at least," declared Four, grinding his now freed hand into his palm. "I mean, we've taken that mansion before without any of our weapons, so all we have to do is…"

"Um, actually, Numbah Four? I'm not so sure that's where they've taken him…"

"What?!" Four turned and glared at the mechanic. "Whadd'ya mean by that?!"

"Well, uh," Two twiddled his fingers anxiously, looking over at Five rather than face the fuming Four directly, "When they took off, I noticed they weren't heading in that direction. In fact, it looked like they were heading away from it."

"Well, where else could they go?!"

"They're probably at some secret base somewhere. I mean, they gotta know that we're gonna come after Numbah One, so they wouldn't wanna go someplace we'd immediately check, right?"

"Well that's just great!" Four threw his hands up angrily. "How the heck are we 'posed to find 'em if they're off hidin' like a bunch of rats!"

"There can't be too many places where they could hide," muttered Numbah Five pensively. "Now how are we gonna find them before they can do anything to Numbah One…"

"…Um…"

Dolores shrank back as her soft interjection caused all of the Kids Next Door to immediately turn and look at her.

"SHE can tell us," growled Numbah Four. Taking a threatening step forward, he snarled, "You'd better start talkin' now, or else I'll…!"

Before he could finish his threat, however, Numbah Five grabbed his wrist again. The Australian looked back at her, and the capped girl shook her head.

"No way, Numbah Four. Not like that."

"Why not?! She's one of them, remember?! If it weren't for those prissy pansies, Numbah One'd be fine right now! You can't expect me to… Hey!" he shouted as she brushed past him and started toward Dolores. "Don't ignore me when I'm yelling at you! I'm not finished! Hey--!"

The fragile girl trembled, staring down at the floor. She'd barely moved since Numbah Four's blow had knocked her down, save to hold her stinging cheek. When a shadow fell over her, she winced and turned her face away, eyes tightly shut, waiting for the next strike to come.

Instead, gentle hands closed over her badly shaking wrists.

"Here, look at me," a smooth voice asked plainly. "Let me see that…"

Dolores didn't resist as Numbah Five turned her around to face her and slowly guided her hands away from her face. The stealth operative frowned: she could see clearly where Numbah Four had smacked the badly shaken lass, for there was a sizable red imprint on her left cheek. Tears of pain streaked down the bruised flesh, and Dolores regarded the other girl with wide, terror-stricken blue eyes.

Numbah Five knelt in front of the Delightful Child so that they were on the same level. Releasing one of the pale girl's hands, she tipped back the brim of her cap, then gently pushed Dolores' chin up so that their gazes made contact.

"Listen, Dolores," she instructed softly. "Numbah Five knows that you're supposed to be one of our enemies. I know that your Father doesn't like us too much, and we've fought before who knows how many times."

Numbah Four snorted, but Numbah Two clamped a hand over the shorter boy's mouth before he could add his own opinion to the conversation.

"But you know that this isn't right," Five continued, apparently not even noticing the near interruption. Her attention was focused entirely on Dolores as she went on, "You probably know better than any of us what your family's capable of. You know that they don't exactly have the best of intentions for Numbah One."

Behind them, Four snarled indignantly behind the muffling hand.

"Girl, if you know anything… anything at all… about where they might have taken Numbah One, please tell us. We have to rescue him as soon as we can…"

Dolores stared at Numbah Five for a long time, studying the capped girl's face for something. All she saw was complete honesty and conviction. Her deep chocolate eyes met her searching blue eyes firmly, keeping the desperate appeal hanging between them.

Finally, Dolores closed her eyes, breaking the contact. She bowed her head, and for a few seconds total silence filled the room.

"A…all right."

Dolores opened her eyes, but still didn't raise her head to look back up at the Kids Next Door while she nodded once, almost imperceptibly.

"I… I can help you get him back."

__

(That's all I can do, though. Please don't ask me for anything more.)

"Thanks," Numbah Five smiled even though the petite girl wasn't looking up at her.

"Wow, Dolores, you're really gonna help us?" exclaimed Numbah Three, wide-eyed. Clapping her hidden hands, she cheered, "Yay! You'll help save Numbah One! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"That's all I can do for you, however," Dolores qualified, finally looking up at the small team. "It's just so you can get your friend back, nothing more."

"That's fine, that's fine!" assured Numbah Two, waving his hands. "So, where do you think they could have taken him?"

"…If they were headed in the opposite direction of home, like you said, then there's only one place that makes sense." Dolores shakily pushed to a kneeling position, looking at the pilot. "They must have taken him to the factory."

"Factory?"

"The place where Father had his mechanical versions of playground equipment built. He took us there when he first proposed the plan to us. If you bring up a map, I should be able to point out…"

"Map, shmap! You're comin' with us!" Four crossed his arms and glared. "I don't trust any directions from any Delightful Dork! You'd probably just guide us into a trap or somethin'!"

"My intention to assist you in the recovery of your friend is genuine," insisted Dolores, standing up and placing one palm against her chest. "I don't appreciate that you'd dismiss my assistance so quickly."

"Look, rather than argue about it, why don't you just come along with us?" suggested Numbah Five. "That should shut up Four, at least…"

"Hey!" protested the fighter.

"But Numbah Five, what about the W.A.T.C.H.?" Numbah Two asked.

"That's right," and Dolores gazed down at the band encircling her right wrist. "He did say that he was the only one who knew the code to release this contraption, and while I have it on, there's no way I can leave your base."

"That's easy enough to take care of…"

With that, Numbah Five stepped over, grabbed the lass's arm, and with a quick flick of her thumb popped the W.A.T.C.H. right off. Dolores stared at her in amazement, rubbing her now bare wrist with her other hand.

"How…" she began, blue eyes full of questions.

"No time to explain," Five replied simply. Turning to face the others, she stated, "We have to get going now. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can save Numbah One. Numbah Two, is the S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. ready?"

"She's been ready and waiting since we touched down," reported Two, saluting.

"All right then." Five nodded, then smiled fiercely and declared, "Kids Next Door, battle stations!"

#####

A short time later, the skycraft was shooting through the air, cutting a swift path to the factory. The ride was conducted in relative silence: for once the agents on board didn't feel like chatting. The band of friends was too busy preparing for the rescue mission, their thoughts primarily of their lost leader and what the Delightful Children might have in store for him.

Sitting off by herself, Dolores gazed out the window at the passing scenery so far below. Like the others, she was lost in thoughts, but hers took a very different tack.

__

(Why am I helping them? Was I just too afraid of what they'd do if I didn't tell them where their leader was?)

She shuddered, remembering the raw, naked fury she'd seen blazing in Numbah Four's dark green eyes. But, somehow, even that was overpowered by the memory of the tears brimming in Numbah Three's eyes, the worry that the pilot had shown, the sharp conviction in Numbah Five's expression…

  
_(Could this be… pity? Do I feel sorry for them…?)_

All of their reactions had been bound together by one common thread: concern for their leader. …No, for their friend. Numbah One… Nigel Uno… it didn't matter. He was in serious trouble, and they'd immediately decided to go after him.

They didn't have any clue what they might have to face. They didn't have any spy cameras they could send to case out the area beforehand. The only information they had was whatever she told them, and if she misled them in any way, that could be potentially disastrous for the remaining Kids Next Door.

They didn't care. Despite all the dangers, they were charging headlong into the unknown to help one of their own.

__

(This isn't pity. I… honestly want to help them. I want to… help…)

Trembling, she closed her eyes.

__

(What's wrong with me…? I… want…)

"We're here," announced Numbah Two grimly.

Dolores opened her eyes and looked down: the smooth metal roof of the warehouse spread out underneath the flying craft. Numbah Two draped one arm over the back of his seat and looked back at the Delightful Child.

"Any air defenses we should know about?"

"N…none," she shook her head in the negative.

The S.K.Y.C.L.A.W. set down carefully, and one by one the unlikely group stepped out onto the roof. Numbah Four was first, B.A.T.T.A.R. at the ready, while Numbah Five and Dolores brought up the rear.

"You all right, girl?" inquired the temporary leader, noticing that the pale girl was clenching her hands together so tightly that the knuckles were turning white.

"…As fine as I can be, considering," came the meek reply. Glancing from side to side, she murmured, "You must be extremely careful. Father didn't bother to set up sky defenses, but that doesn't mean there aren't traps up here."

"Hah! I don't see nothin'!" Four declared. Swinging his metallic club from side to side, the pugilist went on, "There's absolutely nothing up here that could hide a trap, 'cept the door down over there!"

Leading the way over to the doorway, Numbah Four frowned when he saw the bar bolted across the front. Raising his weapon high, he prepared to knock it clean off.

"Don't!" Dolores warned urgently.

Four ignored her completely and brought the B.A.T.T.A.R. down hard. Though the blow did knock the bolt off on the left side, causing it to hang from its weakened supports on the right, a loud alarm blared across the rooftop. As the group looked around, several previously concealed shafts opened, and long chains shot out.

"What the?!" shouted Four, swinging his club and knocking the closest chain away.

"Careful! These are based on the same design used in the equipment to make their supports move!" cried Dolores.

Immediately the kids scattered, dodging away from the clinging chains. However, one of their band, being far less used to direct combat, was snared around the ankle. With a startled cry Dolores fell to the ground, and the metal links snaked up her body.

"Dolores!" Numbah Three shouted.

The blonde girl shrieked as her shackles yanked her backwards into a large shaft that had opened. Her cries echoed through the tunnel as she vanished from sight, the cover sliding back into place over the opening.

"Oh great!" cursed Numbah Four. "So much for our guide!"

"Dolores!" Three screamed again, staring at where the other longhaired girl had vanished

"We can't do anything about that right now!" Five shouted, dodging away from the chains seeking to bind her. "We got enough problems of our own to deal with…"

Numbah Two nodded agreement, as the remaining four members of the Kids Next Door faced off with their first challenge in their mission to save their leader, now without the added assistance of having someone along who could warn what they'd be up against…


	10. Betrayal

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I don't have the rights to Kids Next Door. Now, let's cut to the chase, shall we?

Her sore cheek was resting against a smooth, cool surface. That was the first thing Dolores became aware of when she reemerged into the waking world. The next, as the blurring before her opening eyes slowly adjusted, was that she was definitely not on the rooftop anymore. There was no sign of the four young operatives she had come here with.

Groaning, Dolores pushed off the floor and stood up. The petite girl pivoted around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a very large chamber, so vast that all she could see were shadows when she gazed up toward the shrouded ceiling. There were several piles of steel crates scattered around the floor, stacked into groups of various sizes and heights. Lining one of the thick, reinforced walls were row upon row of closed-circuit televisions, and she slowly approached it, recalling the tour Father had given them.

If her memory served, this was one of the chambers where the mechanical playground equipment was tested. The many screens she was currently watching were used to monitor the experiments from several angles, allowing for more complete data and more detailed analysis.

As her blue eyes strayed from screen to screen, however, Dolores realized that there had been some rerouting of resources. One of the broadcasts displayed a clear view of the small shack on the rooftop, the one that housed the stairs leading down into the building. By squinting a little, she was able to see several broken chains scattered around the entrance, which had been left ajar.

__

(Does that mean they made it inside all right?)

The girl unconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt with one hand, wringing the white fabric. Strange as it was, she felt an undeniable sense of relief at the thought that they hadn't been caught as easily as she had…

Remembering the violence in which she had been brought here, Dolores shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her folded arms and lowering her gaze to the ground. She was grateful to note that, while the white fabric of her left sock had been shredded, her bared ankle underneath hadn't been injured beyond a few light scratches.

__

(Well, surely my family wouldn't want to injure me, anyway, right…?) 

Dolores sighed, closing her eyes tightly. She just wasn't sure what to think anymore…

"What troubles you, sister dear?"

Immediately Dolores' eyes opened wide and she gasped, staring down at the floor as it began to shudder and lurch. Stumbling backwards, the petite girl stared in mute shock as a shaft opened up directly in front of the wall of screens, close to where she'd been standing. A previously concealed elevator rose into view, the sides collapsing to reveal its passengers…all four of them.

It was all Dolores could do to keep standing straight. Her legs had frozen up beneath her, threatening to give way – but at least she hadn't outright collapsed. Her mouth worked silently, struggling to form words she couldn't find to adequately express the devastating torrent of emotions that had overtaken her.

The quartet of Delightful Children from Down the Lane returned her shocked stare with an unwavering, calm gaze and the vaguest hint of a collective smile.

"Oh, sister, how have you been faring? We have been most concerned about your welfare as of late…"

"Where… where have you…" Dolores shook her head slowly; she wanted to ask where her comrades had been, why they hadn't come to liberate her from the Kids Next Door immediately. Instead, what came out was "Where have you put Nigel?"

Her siblings simply stared at her silently for several seconds. She felt curiously unnerved by their intense study, and lowered her head a bit, allowing her long tan hair to partly veil her face. This was the only concession she allowed her body language to make, however, not wishing her formerly constant companions to see her uneasiness.

"A curious request… but certainly understandable. After all, it was because of him that you were able to return home, isn't it?"

She bit the inside of her lip, the perfect retort screaming silently inside her:

__

(He had more to do with it than you did!)

"If you wish to see him, then so be it," continued the quartet of Delightful Children.

One of them, the boy with neatly cropped blond hair, produced a handheld control and pressed a button. There was a loud clanking, and Dolores turned to see the mechanical mockery of a swingset raise into view from another, far larger platform. She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands, spotting a slumped figure sitting on the center swing. Even as she stared, horror-stricken, the seat swayed back then came forward so roughly that its passenger was flung off to land roughly in front of her.

It was clear that Numbah One had not enjoyed his stay with the Delightful Children. His red shirt was torn, the right sleeve missing entirely. His shades hung askew, revealing his blackened left eye. His arms and legs were scratched up. Thankfully, however, Dolores couldn't see any wounds that were especially life threatening. This didn't prevent a wave of nausea from sweeping over her as she turned back to her siblings.

"What… why did you do this?!" she choked. "It's…barbaric! Beneath us!"

"But we were not the ones to do this to him, dear sister," came the monotone reply. A tone of malice entered their detached voices as they smoothly went on, "It was our servants who sullied their hands in this way, not ourselves…"

"T…that doesn't matter!" Dolores shook her head furiously. She stumbled over her own words as she continued, "W…when I w-was p-prisoner of the Kids Ne…"

"Were not they responsible for that mark on your face?" interrupted the other Delightful Children.

Without meaning to, Dolores reached up and felt the side of her face. It still hurt where Numbah Four had punched her, and she belatedly realized that there was probably a huge purple bruise marking the spot. But, somehow, the dull throb of her sore cheek paled in comparison to the way her insides were twisting.

"Did not the Kids Next Door keep you singled out? Did not they make you feel how horribly different you are from them? Did not they torture you with the knowledge that you did not belong there?"

Dolores stared at the ground, unable to look at either her siblings or the beaten and bruised Numbah One. Her hand remained covering the bruise on the side of her face.

"Ohhhh…"

She turned when the moaning started beside her, and saw Numbah One stir. The leader of the Kids Next Door tested his limbs slowly, his face contorting as each movement sent painful replies.

"He awakes," noted the indifferent chorus.

The group stirred, and Dolores turned back to the rest of the Delightful Children as they advanced. The boy with blond hair extended his hands toward it, and it took a moment before Dolores realized he was offering her something. Automatically taking it, she looked down to see that she was now holding the remote control to the swings.

"Now then, sister dear, why don't you be the one to finish the job?" they invited.

Dolores stared down at the remote in silence, blue eyes wide. Taking her stunned pause as hesitance, her siblings pressed the issue.

"It will be the perfect revenge, sister dear, will it not? Because of Nigel and his fellow agents, you were taken away… treated differently… an outsider. They singled you out… made you feel unaccepted… because they couldn't accept you as one of them."

She slowly shifted her gaze from the control cradled in her hands to the battered boy lying in front of her. Numbah One continued to groan and twitch.

"Once Nigel is gone, the other Kids Next Door will shortly follow. With him removed from their ranks, they will never pose a threat again. Things will return to the way they were…even better, with their group no longer able to stand in our way."

Numbah One rolled over, and his eyes slowly opened. The first thing he saw was Dolores standing over him with the remote control in hand. He tensed, the shock that first flooded over his face soon becoming stony resolve.

It was clear to him that things had come full circle. Just as he had once held Dolores' fate in the palm of his hands, so now she was holding his in the form of that control. He already knew how this would play out. He had no reason to believe that she would show him any more mercy than the other Delightful Children had.

The leader of the Kids Next Door braced for the worst. He glared definitely up at the girl and the rest of her spooky siblings. If he was going to go out here, it might as well be in a fashion worthy of a great leader.

"Go ahead and finish the job, sister dear," the quartet prompted, their monotone voices laced with wicked eagerness.

Dolores looked back at the remote control in her hand, then bowed her head, long tan hair hiding most of her face. All that Numbah One could see was the thin line her lips were pressed into as she began to enter a command.

Behind her, the rest of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane looked on. Four pairs of glassy blue eyes gleamed with cruel fascination, eager to see one of their worst enemies finally get exactly what he deserved.

Behind him, Numbah One heard the swingset shudder violently, and fought down a shudder of his own. He couldn't allow his opponents to take any more pleasure from his pain, sadistic siblings that they were. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at those smug smirks on their faces, their emotionless glass blue gaze.

Instead, he attempted to form a picture in his mind of his teammates, of their smiling, joyful faces and excited laughter. That was what he wanted to remember in his last moments, the good times… not whatever might await his friends if he was truly meeting his end here.

To his frustration, however, all he could conjure were images of his teammates mourning his loss. For some reason, Numbah One was getting a clear picture of them surrounding his limp, battered body and crying, their tears showering his face.

A small drop fell squarely onto his nose and broke apart, spraying miniscule droplets onto the dark lenses of his sunglasses. That was when One realized that something was amiss.

__

(Since when do you feel things in dreams?)

Opening his eyes a crack, Numbah One then blinked and stared up at the Delightful Child standing over him. Dolores had barely moved, still holding the controller up in front of her, fingers still firmly grasping the device and keeping it pointed at the swings behind him – which he abruptly realized weren't moving closer anymore.

Though her posture hadn't changed much, the petite girl's shoulders were shaking in time with her quiet sobbing. Tears were rolling freely down her face, drawing further attention to the nasty purplish bruise covering her cheek. Numbah One hadn't noticed it before.

"Why, whatever is the matter, dear sister?" queried the quartet, genuine confusion in their voices.

"…Oh, just… let him go…"

"What?"

The group blinked in perfect unison, staring at the trembling lass. Numbah One was pretty sure the look on his own face was a pretty decent match for their flummoxed expressions.

"I said, let him go." Dolores shook her head, tears trickling down freely. "I can't take… can't take this any longer…"

"Sister…" The group leaned forward slightly, matching looks of confusion and concern gracing their faces. "You've had a difficult time. We believe that…"

"I don't care what you believe!" Dolores spun to face them, several strands of her long sandy hair sticking to her dampened cheeks while she gazed at her startled siblings. "I believe…" She shook her head furiously, then corrected, "I know this has gone way too far! It was bad enough being left behind, but this…"

She choked on her own tears, and squeezing her eyes shut shook her head violently for a moment. Numbah One pushed up to a kneeling position, taking advantage of the fact that none of the Delightful Children seemed to be paying any attention to him. He adjusted his shades, never tearing his gaze away from the drama playing out before him.

"…Please, just drop it right here," Dolores pleaded, reopening her eyes and staring at her siblings again. "Nigel has… his friends miss him so much. He has to get back to them safely. I… I can't…"

Again she shook her head furiously, long blonde hair flipping about, then screamed, "I can't take this anymore!" Burying her face in one shaking palm, hanging onto the control with the other, she murmured, "I just want… I want… I want things to go back to the way they were before all this…"

Numbah One stared at Dolores, scarcely believing what he was seeing. Somehow, he'd never thought he'd be witness to an emotional breakdown of one of his despised rivals. Having difficulty watching the fragile girl cry into her hands, the wounded leader averted his gaze to the other Delightful Children from Down the Lane.

The quartet looked on silently, their faces betraying nothing: no sympathy, no surprise, no sorrow, just four masks of neutrality. Numbah One stared at them, amazed that they could remain so detached. They didn't even look the least bit uncomfortable by being confronted by their sobbing sibling.

Dolores knew she was making a scene. She knew Father would disapprove of her little outburst. But right then, she found she didn't care. A dam had burst, and she couldn't stop the tears pouring from her eyes even if she'd been so inclined.

In her miserable condition, she wasn't capable of paying much attention to what was going on around her. So she didn't notice when her siblings heaved a collective sigh and shifted their weight, hands disappearing into their pockets.

However, Numbah One was not blinded by tears. The British boy saw what the crying lass could not and reacted.

"Get down!" he ordered, springing forward and slamming into Dolores' back.

She cried out in shock, falling to the ground. She felt more than heard the whoosh of displaced air as something flew overhead, and looked over in time to see a large discus slice into the ground with a horrendous screech of tearing metal. It ground itself further into the floor, traveling several feet before finally becoming hopelessly emerged in the jagged steel ruins.

Dolores felt like her heart froze the instant that she laid eyes upon the wreckage. Slowly, tears gathering in the corners of her fear-widened eyes, her shocked gaze swung from the ruined disc to where her siblings stood, controls in hand.

"…What?" the quartet queried, monotone voices filled with false innocence. "Don't look at us like that, sister dear. You know what Father always says: 'Never let anything or anyone block your path on the road to victory. When an obstacle presents itself, show no mercy'."

Dolores opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She slowly shook her head in denial, tears trickling once more down her numb cheeks.

"'The friend of my friend is my enemy'," intoned the chorus bluntly. Each pressed a button on their controls while continuing, "Fare well, Dolores…"

Numbah One grabbed Dolores' hand and yanked her back as several metal poles came lancing down from above. The shocked lass did nothing to resist, staring blankly at her siblings while they summoned their robotic servants.

The leader of the Kids Next Door ran as fast as he could while fairly dragging the lass behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he quickly analyzed the situation: three more mechanical monstrosities had emerged. The poles were forming into crude monkey bars, and he could see a slide lumbering in from the shadows to the right of the platform, while from the left a bunch of heavy-looking metal balls bounced into view.

"Let me guess… dodgeballs," he muttered under his breath.

Dodging behind the first set of crates he reached, Numbah One took several deep breaths, trying to fight down the panic and fear and just think things through.

(Okay, I'm up against four of my team's worst enemies, unarmed, facing down some of their most destructive minions yet, my side still hurts from that smack-down that slide gave me after that last fight…)

On second thought, blind panic didn't seem like such a bad option after all.

"…It isn't as bad as it looks…"

"What?"

Numbah One looked over at Dolores curiously, raising an eyebrow. He hadn't expected the Delightful lass to do anything other than cry and carry on the way she had been. With what she'd been through, he certainly couldn't have blamed her if she couldn't help him face her creepy family.

Her head was bowed, her long sandy hair hiding almost all of her face. All he could see was her reddened, tear-streaked cheeks and her mouth, which was pressed into a thin line as she fought to compose herself. He couldn't see her eyes, yet knew somehow that they were squeezed shut, fighting back any more tears.

"…The system used to control the dodgeballs isn't perfected yet. The tracking system is off kilter. That's why we decided not to bring them along when we set up the trap."

Numbah One gaped at the petite girl. He hadn't been able to force any information out of her before, when he had the upper hand in every way, yet now here she was, reciting weapons intelligence in a quiet, blunt monotone. He flinched: it wasn't quite the same monotone he recalled as her 'Delightful Child' tone, either. This was… a dead recitation of facts.

"The controls are also a bluff," she continued evenly. "They already wreaked one of their weapons with their first assault. The go-round is out of commission, one less weapon to worry about."

"…Why are you telling me all this?" he asked, trying to sound cool and collected instead of as shocked as he felt.

Instead of immediately responding, Dolores handed him something. Numbah One gasped when he realized it was the controls for the slide.

"You can use that to try and hold them off if you want. You're a bright young man; I'm sure you'll think of someway to use that to your advantage."

"…Dolores. Why…"

She raised her head, and Numbah One fell silent at the sight of the raw emotion in the fragile girl's pale blue eyes. Her world had come tumbling down around her. With her family turned against her, she had nothing left to fall back upon, nothing to hold onto, except…

"…I… have a promise I have to keep," she replied quietly.

(There's nothing left for me. But he… his friends are all looking for him. They still care…)

"Your teammates are here to try and rescue you," she reported. "Do you think you can hang on until then?"

Numbah One looked at her, dark blue eyes unreadable behind his dark sunglasses. Suddenly, the commander smirked. Taking Dolores' hands, he folded them around the control unit. She blinked, staring at him questioningly, and he favored her with a faint smile.

"Maybe… if you watch my back for me."

Dolores blinked rapidly, tears still forming in the corners of her eyes. Numbah One didn't give her the chance to refuse. Standing up, the leader of the Kids Next Door adjusted his shades, then turned and dashed back out into the open.

He was taking a calculated risk. If his hunch proved correct, then he just might have a chance of holding out against the Delightful Children long enough for the cavalry to get there. Of course, if he was wrong, he wouldn't have to worry about it long…


End file.
